


Aloha Normero

by burbankstorylady (wearenotamused)



Series: Happily Ever After [1]
Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 39,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearenotamused/pseuds/burbankstorylady
Summary: Alternate story from Season 3's episode 6, "Norma Louise." All the characters we know and love. The title doesn't lie. Normero forever. Norma isn't going to die in my AU.This story started in my head on a whim and kind of went off the rails, but in a good way I guess. I just kept getting ideas for how to carry it on. The timeline, having gone off track from the show at s3e6, goes a completely original route. Anything goes.This story is also posted to FF and wattpad, where my username is @burbankstorylady.





	1. We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.

**Author's Note:**

> All chapter titles (except 19) are quotes from Oscar Wilde.

Alex loved the smile on Norma's face after their meeting with Bob Paris, but he couldn't ignore the pang in his gut. He knew damn well that neither he nor Norma had anything to smile about, that there wasn't a chance in hell that Bob was going to play along nicely with his part in their "deal." No matter what, he knew the only reason Norma was still alive was that Bob knew she had the flash drive; Bob just didn't know where it was. Bob was buying time, making Norma feel that he had accepted her terms. Norma was just naive enough to think she and Bob were on the same playing field. Norma didn't know Bob like Alex knew him. She couldn't see the snake under the Cheshire cat grin. A lot of women fell for Bob's charming ways, thinking he was being upfront with them.

It was with a heavy heart, full of worry and regret, that Alex dropped Norma off at her home and then drove to his own house to dress for work. He regretted that he couldn't keep an eye on her around the clock. If only he could arrest her for something. At least in a cell at the Sheriff's Department, he would know she was safe. The Sheriff played his part all day, though inside his mind there was nothing but Norma. He had no patience for anyone. He wished people would just be direct with him, quick and to the point, and stop bothering him with bullshit. It was well after dark when he decided he'd done all he could do for one day and proceeded to the grocery store to buy some frozen dinners for his empty freezer. But instead of driving to the grocery store, he found himself pulling up to the Bates place. He was shocked to see Norma running down the steps, a suitcase in hand, followed at a distance by her sons. Norman was yelling for "Mother" to come back; Dylan was trying to restrain Norman. Norma just kept running to her car. Alex jumped out his SUV and ran around it to stop Norma.

"Norma, what's going on?"

She barely registered his presence. She seemed a million miles away. She also seemed on the verge of tears. "Alex, please, I can't do this right now. Please get out of my way."

"Mother, please!" Norman, followed by Dylan, approached his mother, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Please don't leave. Forget about Caleb. It was a stupid idea."

Alex was shocked and horrified to witness the glare Norma turned upon her sons. "Back off, Norman! Why don't you just go to your beloved basement and stuff a woodchuck? And as for you, Dylan, have fun building your little pot farm with your father! Clearly, neither of you needs me around to cramp your style!"

Norman started screaming "Nooooooo!" He tried to reach his mother, but Dylan held him back. Norma was already inside her car, where Alex too was already buckled in. While she put her suitcase in the trunk, he had slipped into the passenger side. He was damned if he was going to let her go off by herself in this state.

As Norma peeled out of the driveway, she didn't even seem to notice that Alex was in the passenger seat. She tossed her purse over toward the passenger side and Alex caught it in his lap. The phone in her purse started ringing. If she didn't, in fact, notice Alex's presence by now, she certainly did when he answered her phone with, "Hello, Dylan," having registered the caller ID.

"Sheriff Romero? I'm glad you're in the car with her. She really doesn't need to be alone right now."

"Alex, what the hell are you doing in my car?" Norma huffed.

"Don't worry, Dylan," Alex assured her older son. "I'll make sure she's safe." He hung up. "Norma, you need to pull over. Right now."

"No, Alex, you need to get the hell out of my car."

"Well, I'm not going to jump out of a speeding vehicle, so will you please just pull over to the side of the road?"

Norma rolled her eyes, but groaned, accepting defeat. She did as he requested, but only stopped with her foot on the brakes.

"Put the car in park," said Alex.

She reluctantly did so.

"Turn off the ignition."

"No. Get out of my car."

"No," retorted Alex. "Tell me why you're so upset."

"No," said Norma, daring him to outdo her defiance.

Alex looked away from her and sighed heavily. "Norma, I'm not leaving you alone."

Norma then did something that completely broke Alex. Seeing her finally give in to the overwhelming sadness and the tears fall despite her heroic effort to prevent them, he felt utterly helpless.

"I don't think I can continue living my life," she admitted sadly, leaning her head against the window. "No matter what, I can't ever get ahead. I was so happy today after meeting with Bob Paris. I felt like, finally, I'm gonna get something out of this crappy town. But no, there's always something lurking around the corner, waiting to grab me and pull me back under. I can't win. I'll never win."

Alex had no idea what to say. He just watched Norma with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. He'd seen her vulnerable before, but unlike the night Zack was shot or unlike her breaking down at his house, begging him to take her to see Bob, he didn't have a course of action up his sleeve. There was no 'fix it' plan, nor even a plan to make a plan.

"Why don't you let me drive?" He finally said once her sobbing subsided. The tears continued to fall but they were silent tears.

She slowly lifted her head and turned to look at him. "I don't want to go home. I don't want to be anywhere near my boys right now."

"OK," said Alex.

She climbed out of the car and so did he. Sitting in the driver's seat at last, Alex waited for Norma to fasten her seatbelt before pulling out carefully onto the highway.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a few minutes of awkward silence between them.

"I don't know. Where do you want to go?"

Norma let herself smile. "Hawaii."

Alex laughed. Then suddenly an idea popped into his head.

Norma kind of checked out, lost in her own thoughts and misery, until Alex pulled her car into the parking lot of one of White Pine Bay's tourist traps. It was a tropical-themed restaurant and bar on the beach called Uncle Bo's.

"Here we are, Mrs. Bates," said Alex, undoing his seatbelt.

"Why are we here?"

He grinned. "Well, since I can't take you to Hawaii, I figured this will have to suffice. The whole place runs on a luau theme." When she failed to show any sign of being impressed, he shrugged. "I figured, at the very least, we can sit down, chill out, have some food and maybe a cocktail, and just try to forget how badly life sucks."

This was exactly what she needed right now. Her face broke out into a grateful smile. "Thank you, Alex."


	2. There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it

As soon as Alex stepped out of Norma's car, he regretted it. Here he was, practically on a date with Norma Bates and he was still in his sheriff uniform. Not a date, he scolded himself for even having to tell himself that. She's upset. She needs a friend. There was just something about being in uniform that he didn't like about this date-not-a-date he seemed to be on the cusp of with Norma. With her, he didn't like that such an outing would have to do with his being the sheriff. He'd rather be with her as Alex than as Sheriff Romero. He longed for something more personal with her.

She already seemed to feel better as she surveyed their surroundings. "I didn't even know this was here!" she said as they stepped into the restaurant. It wasn't overly crowded. Just a few families, a lot of them passing through. It wasn't a favorite among the locals, and this was off season in White Pine Bay. The song "Aloha Oe" played through the speakers and all of the staff wore Aloha shirts and leis.

Alex shrugged. "I don't think it's been here more than ten years or so. I've heard it's a bit overpriced and the food is just decent."

"Hey," said Norma, winking at him. "As long as I can order a Mai Tai, I'm not complaining!" They exchanged grins.

While the waitress guided them to a table, they did not notice one of Bob's goons step inside. The goon took a seat at the bar and tried not to be obvious about watching the sheriff and that "nutty Bates lady."

"The lady will have a Mai Tai," Alex told the waitress. "Same for me," he said, not wanting to order his usual 'guy drink,' like a Scotch, no rocks, or a Rusty Nail in front of Norma. Being with Norma shouldn't be like being with another guy.

As the waitress walked away, Norma shot him a knowing look. "A Mai Tai, Sheriff?"

He cocked his head, smirking. "Don't tell anyone or I'll have to kill you."

It was convenient for their mutual comfort in each other's presence that they needed to pick something on the menu to eat. Both used this excuse to avoid talking until deciding on an entree. It wasn't more than ten minutes when the waitress returned with the drinks and asked if they were ready to order their entrees.

"I'm ready, I'll have a steak medium rare" said Alex, giving up on the exotic tropical options.

Norma smiled at this before taking a sip of her Mai Tai. When she set her glass down she began to ask a slew of questions about the teriyaki chicken and macaroni salad. ~How does the chef chop the eggs for the macaroni salad~ and ~does he, or she, use red or yellow bell peppers~? "I see the menu says it comes with red onions, but can you use yellow onions instead?"

Alex's jaw hung open during Norma's entire interrogation of the poor waitress. Once Norma felt satisfied that her macaroni salad would come with yellowfin tuna instead of albacore, the details of the teriyaki chicken had to be fleshed out. "Cook on a medium heat, not too much oil, go light with the pineapple juice, actually just hold the pineapple juice altogether, what a silly idea..." Alex held back a chuckle at the waitress, who rolled her eyes as she walked away.

"So," he spoke up, nervously but with a strong decision to get to the bottom of Norma's drama tonight. "Who is Caleb?"

The draining of the color from her cheeks was far from lost on Alex. "What are you talking about?" she snapped in that defensive manner Alex had come to know familiarly.

"Norman told you to 'forget about Caleb,' as if that might convince you to stay. I assumed Caleb had something to do with you being upset."

Norma took such a large sip of her Mai Tai that when she was done, about three quarters of it was gone. "How observant of you, Sheriff. Gold star. I'll tell you what has something to do with me being upset. It's everyone including my own flesh and blood thinking they know what's good for me. Why do people always assume they know more about a situation than they really do? I don't go around judging Dylan for his choice of 'career,' if you can call what he does a 'career.' I don't even interfere with my 17-year-old son's life, well not really. I mean, sure, I'm sometimes, somewhat disturbed by his choice of female companions, but it's not like I'm some tyrannical, unreasonably overbearing mother. If anything it's Norman and Dylan putting pressure on me to be something I'm not. I told Dylan I never wanted to see Caleb and then tonight he and Norman decided to ambush me by telling me that Caleb is living on Dylan's stupid pot farm."

"Who is Caleb?" Alex pressed curiously.

"My brother." Norma drained the remaining one-fourth of her Mai Tai.

Alex raised his eyebrows, more at her greedy intake of her cocktail than the revelation that there was another Calhoun-blooded person in his county. "Is he your only sibling?"

"Yep."

"Not a good relationship?"

"Nope."

Alex rolled his eyes. "He gets along with his nephews?"

Norma groaned as she rested her elbows on the table and then put her forehead in her palm. "He's been helping Dylan at the farm. He came here before and I freaked out and told him to get out, but I guess he doesn't have anywhere to go and Dylan felt sorry for him. It's just bullshit. Dylan knows what he did, but Caleb is such a 'nice guy', and he 'just wants to start over.' What about me? What about his own mother? Doesn't matter, apparently. As long as Dylan has his 'uncle.' He says, 'Just give him a chance, Norma!'"

Alex listened sympathetically, curiously observing and interpreting her air quotes. He wanted to push and ask for the details of Caleb's crime against her, but he thought better of it. It was always better not to push Norma. From long experience with Norma, he knew that pushing her too hard could easily be counterproductive, like trying to cage a hyena. He judged it best to just let her talk, let her proceed at her own rhythm.

"I walked away from the Calhoun craziness a long time ago. Our parents were screwed up. Our dad was an asshole. Our mom was a mess. Caleb thinks we can be the way we were as kids, when all we had was each other because no one else could understand the weird dynamics in our home. It wasn't like we could have friends over. It was embarrassing and I was terrified all the time. I don't ever want to go back to that. I just want to be in the here and now, with my sons. Is that too much to ask?"

"No." Alex nodded. "But it sounds like Caleb isn't going anywhere. If he's living and working at Dylan's farm, you're bound to see him somewhere, walking downtown or something. Maybe just rip the bandaid off and have a chat?"

Norma sighed. "I know you're right. I shouldn't have run out on my sons the way I did. Norman's probably freaking out."

******

She was right about Norman freaking out. After Dylan and Norman returned inside the house, Norman started running all over the place, grabbing shit and throwing it on the floor. Dylan had to knock him out to get him to stop. He dragged his unconscious brother upstairs, made him lie down on the bed, and tucked him in. Just like he used to do all those years ago when they were kids after one of Sam's abusive rages. He dialed his mother's number and it went to voicemail after a few rings. "Norma, you need to come home. Look, I don't want to pressure you. I know you're upset and I'm really sorry. But, please, Mom, Norman is going crazy and I don't know what to do."

He walked back to Norman's room and found his brother awake, looking serene but sad.

"She's never coming back, is she?" Norman asked dejectedly.

"Norman, of course she's coming back. She's just upset. She'll cool off. We blindsided her."

Norman shook his head disbelievingly. "No, Dylan. You don't understand. What Caleb did to her. It's not like anything else. We betrayed her. She's not going to forgive us. She hates us now."

Dylan was slowly becoming impatient with his brother. "Norman, she doesn't hate us. That's just stupid. Especially not you. If anything, she's angry with me. I'm the one who betrayed her. You were just trying to support me. It's not like you invited Uncle Caleb to stay in town after she had shut the door in his face and told him to go to hell. That was all me. I'm at fault for this, not you."

Norman shrugged, but he remained unconvinced. "So where do you think she went?"

Dylan sighed. "Well, she's with Romero. He's pretty good at calming her down."

"Why is she with Sheriff Romero?"

"I guess he got in the car before she drove off."

"I didn't see the sheriff there."

Dylan laughed. "That's because you were too crazed and busy screaming to notice your own ass, goofball." Dylan was pleased to see his brother laugh too. "Get yourself to bed, kid. Sleep it off, ok? I'm sure when you wake up, Mom will be back. She'll make breakfast and she'll be singing like normal."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm sorry I had to hit you," Dylan said, and then they heard Emma coming into the house downstairs, calling out.

******

Norma and Alex enjoyed their meal. It wasn't so much that the food was good (Norma hated hers, but was too tipsy to care and ate it anyway) but it was just great being together. They fell easily into banter and laughs and it felt for all the world that they had really been friends for years.

"This food is really terrible," she said and they laughed.

"The drinks are good, though," he countered, and she agreed, taking a not-shy drink from her second Mai Tai.

"So do you have siblings, Sheriff?"

"No, Mrs. Bates. I'm an only child."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I don't know. Why aren't you surprised, Mrs. Bates?"

Norma grinned and shrugged. "You just seem like an only-everything. Are you a Lonely Heart, Sheriff?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, that's cryptic!" she teased.

"I'm self-reliant," he clarified.

Norma nodded sadly. "Yeah. Don't we all have to be?"

"Can I ask you a question, Norma?"

"Sure. We're friends, aren't we?"

Alex felt his heart warm at hearing her call them friends. "Was Sam Bates your first husband?"

Norma was taken aback by the question, but not offended. It was just unexpected. "No," she answered after quickly recovering from the surprise. "I was married first to Dylan's father. He knocked me up. We married right after high school. Or more accurately, before we finished high school. We both went the GED route to finish. What about you? Have you been married?"

"Yeah."

Norma went bug-eyed. "Really? Oh my god, someone married you?!"

Alex was mildly offended, but mostly amused. "Yes, Norma. Someone married me and then divorced me six months later."

"How long ago? Was it here? Were you the sheriff? Do I know this person?"

"That's a lot of questions, Mrs. Bates. It was a long time ago. Camp Pendleton. I was in the Marines and I doubt you know her."

"Do you regret not having children?"

"Not really. I doubt I would be a good dad. Being the sheriff is rather all-consuming."

"Well, trust me. Parenthood isn't all it's cracked up to be. You know that story The Giving Tree? About a tree and this kid who keeps taking stuff from it his whole life and at the end there's nothing left but a stump. And then the kid sits on the stump. That's being a parent."

Alex was speechless. He was torn between pity that that's how Norma felt about her life and amusement or awe at the brilliance of her analogy.

"Yeah, I love my boys, but sometimes I'm just so fed up, Alex. I can never get ahead and I'm so out of my depth and I'm so tired of having to figure everything out on my own."

"Well, maybe it's time to let someone help you?"


	3. The truth is rarely pure and never simple

******

"HELLO!" Emma Decody stepped familiarly into the Bates home, pulling her oxygen tank behind her. She called out one more time before Dylan appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Oh. Hi, Emma." He jogged down the stairs and faced her uncertainly.

"Dylan, what's wrong? I was in the office when I heard Norman out there yelling."

"Yeah, he was wigging out," admitted Dylan. "Our mom has never left him before. Not like that. I mean, it was whole other level Norma freakout."

"What happened?"

"She found out about my uncle staying at the farm."

"Oh."

"Well, actually, we told her. We had decided it was best to tell her and Norman wanted to do it with me. She went nuts. She ran upstairs and started throwing stuff into a suitcase."

Emma looked shocked. "She packed a suitcase?"

"Yeah, Norman is convinced she isn't coming back, but luckily Romero got in the car with her."

"Wait? Sheriff Romero?" (As if there was some other Romero besides the Sheriff who'd have intervened.)

"Yeah."

"Does he know about Caleb?"

"No, I'm just hoping he will talk her off the ledge, you know? I mean, he's a cop. He handles crazy people all the time, right?"

"I guess so." Emma was secretly excited at the idea of Norma and Alex being alone together. She had been secretly 'shipping' them for a little while now. She had even started calling them Normero-secretly of course.

"Listen," she spoke up. "Do you want me to stay over? I can sleep on the couch."

Dylan looked uncomfortable. "Nah, I don't want to ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I offered."

******

After their meal, and the check being paid (Alex paid, despite Norma's protests) they walked along the beach.

"Do you really think Bob Paris is going to do all the stuff he said he would?"

Alex was about to answer, giving his honest opinion that he did not think there was a chance in hell that Bob Paris was going to fulfill Norma's demands for a swimming pool and two billboards advertising the Bates Motel off the new bypass. He was about to say all of that when the cop mentality that never slept detected someone following them. "Norma, hang on."

She stopped beside him. "What? What's going on?"

"Someone's following us," he said in a barely audible voice.

She laughed it off. "What are you talking about? Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

Alex balked at her indifference. "No, I don't." She was about to speak again, he shushed her and while he turned his head to watch the shadow (which had now stopped moving) he wrapped his fingers around his gun, though keeping it in place in his holster. Whoever it was (and Alex strongly suspected one of Bob's goons, maybe Clay DuFont) they were just beyond the light that poured out from the lamps on the boardwalk. Alex thought about pursuing the person, but he quickly thought better of it. The person could be armed. He turned back to Norma and suggested they head back up to the boardwalk. But as they ascended the boardwalk, he kept himself aware that they were still being followed.

"I'm sure it's one of Bob's people," he said. "Bob's buying time until he can get his hands on the flash drive."

Norma scoffed. "No, he said we had a deal. He knows he'll get it in exchange for the stuff I asked for."

Alex sighed. "Norma, he's not going to do all that stuff. He was just humoring you."

"Well, I don't think that's true."

"You don't know Bob like I do."

"Actually, I don't know him at all, but he seems reasonable. I mean, besides probably being the one to kill those two girls, and those pervy sex parties aside..."

"Look, Norma, obviously I hope you're right but I really don't think so and I've been doing this, dealing with Bob and many characters just like him for a long time. They don't negotiate. They get what they want, no negotiation."

Norma smiled and threw up her arms. Alex was fascinated watching her twirl around and finally sit on a bench. "Well, maybe this time I'm going to get what I want."

He took a moment to think about her words. "What do you want, Norma?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

After a moment to really consider her answer, she said: "I want to win. For once in my life, I want to win."

******

While Dylan took a shower and Emma called her father to let him know she'd be staying there for the night, Norman went down to the basement, wearing the blue jumpsuit he always wore for taxidermy. He felt that weird, inexplicable sensation of being outside of his body, like he was watching himself, instead of doing it, set up the worktable for his latest project. He retrieved a dead bird out of the freezer and began to poke around at it. He tried to lose himself into the operation and the chords of Beethoven but suddenly the bird started struggling and flapping to get away (it was alive even after he'd made an incision!) Juno was barking from her place on the steps. Norman squeezed the bird until it stopped moving. Juno ran up to him as he, as if grieving, laid his head by the lifeless bird and petted it.

2:12 AM

Dylan and Emma stood before a completely checked out Norman Bates. He sat perfectly still on his work stool in the basement, not moving, not even blinking. Dylan and Emma tried everything to get him to come out of whatever trance he seemed to be in. Emma said they should call an ambulance, but Dylan resisted. "No. No. This has happened before. We'll wait it out."

"What do you mean, this has happened before?" Emma demanded in her kind, non-threatening way. "Norman's been like this before?"

"Yeah," said Dylan, unsure of how much he should tell Emma, a non-relative. There were only three living souls who knew about Norman's blackouts: Dylan and his mother, and that girl Cody Brennan, who was god knows where now ever since her last remaining parent died...itself a curious incident in the chronicles of Norman Bates, but that was another story. Dylan doubted he and his mom had forever to conceal it from the rest of the world. Eventually, people would catch on and Norman would have to get professional help...or he would end up in prison or a psych ward.

_Can you imagine Norman in prison? He'll just dissolve._

"Yeah," he said to Emma. "When he gets upset. It's like he... He just checks out and when he wakes up he doesn't remember anything that happened while he was blacked out. Come on, let's get him upstairs."

******

Norma listened to her voicemail while Alex looked around for the person who had been following them. He did not see anyone suspicious and assumed that the person, wise to having been detected by the sheriff, was now laying low. Norma ended her call to her voicemail. "Dylan left me a message," she said. "He says Norman is freaking out. I really should get back home."

"I think that's a good idea," said Alex, albeit a little sadly because it meant their date-not-a-date would be over.

"But I don't want to go home just now. I mean, Dylan can handle Norman. He's just being a baby because he's used to me always being there to save everyone's ass."

Alex chuckled. "All the same."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever get tired of being the Big Daddy of White Pine Bay? Trying to make all this shit work?"

Alex smirked. "You have no idea, Norma."

"I might have some idea. You laugh over the name, but you really are the Big Daddy around here. All the kids are fighting and doing stupid things and you're like the parent. You negotiate the compromises and try to keep the peace."

Alex agreed. "My job is to make sure everyone is playing by the agreed-upon rules."

"Me too. That's exactly my job, but no one ever plays by the rules. Norman does whatever he wants. Dylan too, but I worry less about Dylan. Dylan will always be ok."

"Why won't Norman be ok?"

Norma looked miserable. Alex placed his thumb on her cheek to wipe the single tear that fell. Blue eyes met brown ones.

"Why won't Norman be ok, Norma?"

She just kept looking at him. Miserably.

"He didn't kill Blaire Watson," Alex said. "If the polygraph was right, that is. And I assume that it is. Declan Rogers is never wrong when he administers a polygraph."

Norma looked away from him and the misery on her face worsened.

Alex continued: "The death of Jimmy Brennan was absolutely, conclusively an accident. It was Bob, we presume, who killed Annika. Norman was upstairs in the bath, you said so yourself."

Alex recalled each of these deaths, how each time, Norma had been terrified that the police would find reason to suspect Norman in the case. The fact was that the Sheriff's Department had not been able to charge Norman for murder, but his own mother made him the prime suspect every time there was a mysterious death with any connection, however loose, to Norman. Her belief that he killed Annika led her to climb the wall of the Arcanum Club, that den of "gentlemanly" decadence and debauchery of which Bob Paris was president. Her belief that he pushed Jimmy Brennan to his death (Alex knew for sure that was an accident) almost caused her a nervous breakdown. The Blaire Watson case was even more elusive to Alex. His several notes about Norman in relation to that case included that Norman matched one of two semen samples found inside the high school teacher at the autopsy. The match for the other sample, Kyle Miller, was currently serving time for the murder. Alex had been tormented with doubt that he charged the right one until Declan Rogers decisively declared that Norman, in passing his polygraph, could not, in his estimation, have killed Blaire Watson. Alex recalled that Norman was also connected to Bradley Martin, daughter of the late Jerry Martin, one of the higher-ups in White Pine Bay's drug business. But Bradley, Alex knew, had committed suicide. She'd left a note.

Norma was engrossed in similar recollections. Only she had more grounds for her suspicions. Norma had seen Norman running in the rain on the night of the winter dance, panicked and suffering from lost time due to another blackout. The last thing he could recall in that moment was getting in the car with his language arts teacher, Miss Watson, who turned up dead the following day, in her bedroom, her throat slit.

"Norma?"

"Hmm?" Norma appeared to be far away. Her eyes were glazed over.

"Norma, look at me."

Norma slowly lifted her head and looked at Alex.

"What won't Norman be ok?"

"Because he kills people, Alex, and he blacks out and he forgets."


	4. The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future

Alex stared at Norma like she suddenly grew two additional heads. She immediately regretted her words and started hyperventilating. "I'm drunk, I don't know why I said that," she hardly managed to get out. She stood up and started walking, very fast. Alex ran after her.

"Norma!" He grabbed her to make her stop. "Breath," he commanded as he rubbed her shoulders.

She took a moment to try to catch her breath and breathe rhythmically. Alex's proximity and the way he rubbed her shoulders had a calming effect, but the panic over what she had just told him about Norman was too great to overcome just now. Compounding her breathing problems, she began sobbing. He pulled her into his arms and she clutched him as if her life depended on it. He soothingly rubbed her back. All the tension in her body melted into his touch. Alex decided to guide Norma back to her car rather than try to do anymore talking. She was worried about what she had just communicated to him, worried about what he must be thinking, but she couldn't be unaffected by his soothing rubs on her back and shoulder and the way he kept brushing his lips against her forehead and temple. He wanted to get her away from that place, to somewhere private where they could talk about it.

Out in the parking lot in front of the restaurant, he put her in the passenger seat of her car. He slowly walked around the back of the car, his mind reeling from what she had told him. Because he kills people, Alex, and he blacks out and he forgets.

He needed to be careful the way he talked to her from here on out. She had let her guard down (the alcohol, maybe) and that was highly out of character for Norma Louise Bates. She had begun to feel comfortable with him and perhaps even to trust him with what presumably was one of her most closely guarded secrets, about her son no less. If he played this right, kept the judgement out of his voice, and made her feel safe, he might be able to get more explanation from her. Norma's instinct in such moments of vulnerability was to lie or to run. Knowing this, it was a gentle, extremely mindful Alex Romero who slipped into the driver's seat of the vintage Mercedes.

They rode in silence. Norma sneaked a few glances at him, as if trying to read him, but she was afraid to talk. The tears flowed steadily down her cheeks, but her breathing was mostly normal now.

Alex drove to his own house. He had debated in his mind on where to take Norma. Her ruled out her house because they would not have any privacy there. He ruled out one of the motel rooms because the last thing he needed was to be in a room with a bed alone with Norma Bates; and if anyone saw the two of them enter a motel room at this time of night (eh, morning)... He didn't give a shit what people said about him (elected official, yes, but he was a bachelor and he could do as he pleased) but Norma didn't deserve to be the brunt of their gossip anymore than she already had been. At his own house, he would be able to change out of his uniform and they could talk in the living area, safely away from any bed where he might get inappropriate ideas. Norma needed a friend right now, not a lover. He put her down on the couch. "Call your son. Call Dylan."

"Alex? It's two in the morning."

"Call Dylan, Norma."

In his bedroom, Alex changed into some jeans and a tee shirt. When he returned to the living room, he found Norma stripped of her Burgundy coat. She was still talking to Dylan. Alex went to the kitchen to have some water and prepare a glass of water for Norma. He lingered there, drinking his own water, and tried to focus on the crickets instead of the one-sided conversation in the other room.

"I don't know... Well, just let him sleep. And keep him calm if he wakes up. I'm glad Emma is there. That was nice of her to stay... We'll talk about it later. It's gonna be ok... I love you too. Good night, honey. And I'm sorry."

Judging it safe to reenter his living room, Alex joined her on the couch and handed her the water he'd prepared for her. She silently but gratefully took it.

They both leaned back into the couch, at opposite ends, and looked at each other. Norma set her glass on a coaster on the coffee table. "So..."

"So?"

"I guess you're wondering about my outburst back there."

He decided to stay silent and just let her talk. She took the hint.

"First of all," she began. "Norman doesn't kill people, but I'm worried that he might."

"Why?"

"Because when he blacks out, he does things."

"Like what?"

"He becomes angry. Violent even."

"Has he ever hurt you?"

Her eyes snapped to his. "No! Absolutely not."

"Really?"

"No, Alex, he's never hurt me."

"Norma?"

"What? No, he's never hurt me. I promise."

"No, that's not what I was gonna ask."

"What?"

"Did Norman kill Blaire Watson? Did he black out and forget and that's why he was able to pass the polygraph?"

"I'm not sure."

"But you think it's possible?"

She started to cry again. He wanted to embrace her, but he restrained himself. He watched her try to compose herself and wished he was the sort of person who kept tissues in the house. It was such a domestic thing to do, to keep boxes of tissues, and Alex had always avoided that sort of thing. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Yeah, I think it's possible. I always did."

"Why?" (He was very careful to keep the judgement out of his 'why' and to just to be curious and concerned, as a friend.)

She shrugged and sighed. "Because he was there. The night she died. He was at her house. He remembered getting in the car with her and being at her house. He remembered her cleaning his cut."

"His cut?"

"Yeah. Some kid punched him at the dance. That's why he was walking home in the rain. She was driving by and invited him into the car."

Alex's mind was in turmoil at this point. Thankfully to his almost-30 years of police training and experience, he maintained an unreadable demeanor, like a poker face. But on the inside, all the feelings, which he thought were buried, of guilt and uncertainty about Kyle Miller's incarceration came flooding back. He didn't give a shit about Kyle Miller (a bad guy, a hardened criminal and general scumbag!) and, sure, there still was not any certainty whether the murderer was Norman or Kyle, but the very uncertainty and the fact that he had rushed to charge and to testify against Kyle, had testified as to Kyle's guilt as if absolutely certain of it, bothered Alex more than anything. It reminded him of his father and the way his father had done business as the sheriff. Somewhere deep down, ever since he learned that Norman matched the other semen sample, Alex had felt certain that it was Norman who should be convicted of Miss Watson's murder. Just a feeling, but a strong one! Alex had been shoving down the feeling, forcing himself to believe in Declan's superior skills as a polygraphist, but as he now realized, the feeling never actually went away.

******

Meanwhile, at the Bates house, Dylan fell asleep in a chair in the living room. He had given his bedroom to Emma. He only woke up after hearing activity in the kitchen. It sounded like cooking. He thought maybe Norma was home. He bolted up and walked down the hall to the kitchen. And that's when he saw it. The most unexpected, horrifying sight to behold in that moment- Norman wearing their mother's robe, putting plates away in the cabinet. What the hell? "What are you doing?" he demanded of his brother.

Norman flashed him an innocent smile. "Sit down, honey. I'm just making some breakfast. French toast."

"You feeling better?"

"I'm fine."

Dylan felt like he was going crazy. Norman started talking about blackberries and Dylan just wanted to start screaming. "Norman?"

Norman looked at him with surprise. "Norman's sleeping."

Fear. Not of Norman, but for him. That's probably the best summary for how Dylan was feeling in that moment. He thought maybe he should just act like things were normal, so he moved to the fridge to retrieve the blackberries as Norman had told him to. He even offered to help.

Norman said he was fine and told Dylan, "Go wake up your brother so we can eat."

That's when Dylan really felt like he was about to lose his shit. "My brother?"

Norman stepped closer to him and assumed this sort of sassy tone. "Yeah, silly, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"Then run upstairs. You know how Norman is. He'll sleep all morning if you don't wake him up."

Norman returned to the French toast on the stove and Dylan suddenly felt very alone and confused and terrified. He wished Norma would come home. Norma was the only person who ever knew how to handle Norman. Did Norma even know about this behavior? It was new to Dylan, but perhaps their mother knew about the cross-dressing and role-playing. Maybe Norman had done it before. Was Norman just pretending? Was this a game? Or was it some kind of delusion, in which Norman actually believed that he was "Mother"?

******

Alex gave into temptation and pulled Norma into his arms. They ended up lying on the couch, he on his back and she sort of on her side, leaning into him. She had told him everything she remembered, concerning Norman, on the night of the winter dance at White Pine Bay High School, the night of Blaire Watson's gruesome death. Norman running in the rain. Terrified. His lost time.

"We came here to start over and nothing has turned out the way it was supposed to," she was saying. "Between the bypass ruining the business and Norman's blackouts getting worse-"

"Worse?" Alex questioned. "He keeps having them?"

"Dylan said he had one tonight, or last night. He just gets still and you can't get him to respond."

"Norma, when did this start? The blackouts?"

Norma swallowed down her fear. It went right to her stomach and made her feel sick. The question brought her back to that horrible day in Arizona. "I don't know exactly. I guess he's always had them. I thought he was just withdrawing, but looking back, I have to wonder if he was having blackouts and I just didn't realize it. It always seemed to happen when Sam... was angry."

Alex had long suspected that her marriage to Sam Bates was plagued by physical abuse. Shortly after she initially came to town and everything happened with Keith Summers, he had done a background check and found a lot of domestic abuse calls to the Bates home in Arizona. He had even suspected at various times that Sam's death was not the accident Norma claimed it was. She killed the man who raped her here in White Pine Bay. What was to say she hadn't killed Sam in a similar defensive sort of scenario?

"Did Sam ever hurt you and Norman, Norma?"

She lifted her head to look at him. He looked back at her. Brown eyes meeting blue ones again. She didn't have to say it. He knew just from the look. He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her head.

"I don't wanna talk anymore, Alex," she said as she laid her head on his chest again.

"OK. Sleep, Norma."


	5. Be yourself; everyone else is already taken

The sun came up. The one certainty in life. The sun will come up and dawn a new day. After Emma left, Dylan stepped into his mother's room, where Norman lay on the bed, fast asleep. Emma had thought it a good idea to move him to Norma's room, thinking it might make him feel better, just being in his mother's room. It was hard to believe the earlier scene in the kitchen, with Norman in Norma's robe, had even happened. Dylan wondered if it wasn't some sort of dream, or even if he was still dreaming. Maybe he was actually still sleeping in the chair downstairs and he was only dreaming this moment. But why would he dream of just standing here, watching Norman sleep? Exasperated and exhausted, he sat down on the side of the bed that was unoccupied. I might as well try to get some sleep too, he thought as he laid down and went to sleep next to his brother.

******

Norma woke up before Alex. Their position on his couch had not changed. She was still entangled with his body, his left arm snaked underneath and around her torso and his right arm wrapped clumsily over her hip. She wanted get up, to slip out from his grasp, but not at the expense of waking him, so she stayed put and tried to gather her thoughts. Staring up at the ceiling, she resolved that it was going to be necessary to face Caleb. It was important to her sons, well at least to Dylan, and she had been trying to improve her relationship with Dylan. They'd been making progress lately. The last thing she wanted was to make him choose between her and Caleb. She felt sure that, faced with such a decision, he would choose her, just because he barely knew Caleb and he had always longed for more closeness with her, but she also recognized that he was likely to resent her for his having to make that choice. Also, she was going to have to deal with having told Alex about Norman's blackouts. She had fallen just shy of telling him how Sam really died, but it was never far from the surface, and last night and succeeding early morning had been no exception. _I have to be more careful_ , she reprimanded herself. Alex made her feel safe. She wanted to open up to him in a way that was completely foreign to her. She'd never felt such a desire with anyone, man or woman. She'd never felt before that someone would accept her in spite of the crazy shit that surrounded her. "Chaos seems to swirl around you," Alex had told her on the night of Annika's death. It was true, and yet he was still here. As amazing as that was, even he had his limits. He was the sheriff, after all. It was his job to enforce law, not to find ways to subvert it simply because he had a friend (is that what she was?) whose son experienced blackouts. She knew he was attracted to her, but did he like her enough to collude with her in covering up for Norman, for keeping Norman out of prison, or at best, one of those horrible, chronically-underfunded county psych wards? Was it even fair of her to ask him to?

_Alex has principles,_ she reminded herself. _He's not like the losers you married or the other opportunistic bastards you're used to._ Deputy Zack Shelby would not have hesitated or had any qualms about keeping the secret of the blackouts. Norma believed him when he said he would have protected her. Zack would have protected her, and by default, would have protected Norman. That protection would have come at a price, to be sure. Norma never doubted that Zack would protect her, but with Zack protecting her, she always felt out of control. She never knew when the shoe would drop, so to speak. Protection from Alex was different. Alex was always honest with her. He gave her the facts, not just what she wanted to hear. When he found out about the semen sample matching Norman, he didn't want to reopen the case and so he arranged a polygraph test: if Norman passed it, he'd let it go, but if Norman failed it, he would be forced, by his principles, to reopen the case. He hated Kyle Miller's guts, but if there was a chance Norman was the real killer, he would pursue the truth.

Alex isn't perfect, but he is honest. 

Honesty was a big thing with Alex.  
_  
-Don't lie to me, Norma._

_-I'm not. Why are you lying to me?_

_-I'm not lying. I'm not revealing the whole truth. That's my job. To decide what and when to tell whom._

_-Well, you're very good at it. Gold star, Sheriff._  
  
Alex had scolded her countless times for dishonest answers and doubting his abilities to ensure that no harm ever came to her or her sons.  
  


_-When I say trust me, trust me, Norma._

_-What are you gonna do about it?_

_-Please stop asking me that question._

_-I trust you. I totally trust you._

_-Well then let me take care of it._  
  
That was the thing, wasn't it? I'll take care of it, that was Alex's mantra with Norma. Whether it was Zack Shelby bleeding to death on the steps to her house, Jake Abernathy demanding payment, Norman in a box, or goons running her off the road for a flash drive, it was always the same. Alex would take care of it. And he always did. But when she told him about having the flash drive, although he again wanted to take care of it and not involve her, she dug her heels in. This time, she wanted to play. This time, she didn't want to just let him take over. She wanted a place at the table.

_You know what? If I was a man, one of these douchebags who lives here, you would say this is totally doable. You're just saying it's a bad idea because you think I can't handle it because I'm a woman. Because I'm a mother. I can. I have seen how it's done and I will handle it without you if I have to._

Alex was never going to stand by and let Norma "handle it" without him. So for once, he went along with her plan and stood by her side while she bargained with Bob Paris.

Norma looked around the now sunlit living room of Alex's house. She couldn't help smiling at his bachelor ways. He still had boxes to unpack and there were no pictures on the walls. Wait. There was a framed picture, she suddenly noticed, on the endtable by her feet. An old-timey, sepia photograph of a woman holding a boy, both of them smiling, in a 4x6 frame. The frame itself seemed like the kind of thing a man like Alex would have burned before allowing in his utilitarian, I-sleep-here-and-eat-here-what-do-you-want-from-me house. The frame was wooden, painted bronze, almost ornate looking, as if it was as dated as the photograph, and there was a bronze rosette on each corner. Norma guessed that it was a photo of Alex as a boy and his mother. Alex was unmistakeable and the woman shared his dark features and pained, haunted expression, even while smiling. For the first time since she'd met him, Norma recognized that Alexander Romero had a been a child once. A little boy with a mother. Even when he confided to her that one night that his mother's name was on the Bob Paris ledger, used as a cover for his incarcerated father's drug-money slush fund, she hadn't really stopped to think about him as a kid. Alex Romero gave off the impression of having just come into the world as a tough guy, just automatically, intrinsically knowing how to handle fellow tough guys. Now, trying to imagine him as a boy, she wondered what he had been like. Was he more like Dylan or Norman?

_Dylan,_ she thought in answer to her own musing. Dylan as a child was very much like Dylan as an adult. Older than his age, stoic, always being strong, never showing his vulnerability. Norma wondered if Alex, like Dylan, had taken at an early age to calling his mother by her actual name instead of Mom. No. As hard as he was, there was a softness to Alex, probably invisible to others besides Norma, that made her suspect he had been an affectionate son. Maybe not as needy as Norman, but neither quite as detached as Dylan. He had been too shaken up over the sight of his mother's name on that shady ledger. Shaken up to the point where he actually went to a bar and got so drunk that he couldn't drive and even swallowed his man-pride in order to call Norma for a ride. Clearly, Alex never wanted his mother, even in death, to be involved in the dirty underworld of White Pine Bay. It was no place for the mothers of the world.

Alex stirred beside her. She looked at his face. He didn't wake up, but she felt his hold on her tighten as he shifted slightly. She smiled as she took in his features. It was rare to see Sheriff Romero without his jaw clenched. Norma wondered how many people got to see him this way. She knew he didn't have a girlfriend. He'd have called a girlfriend, not Norma, to give him a ride that night he got drunk after seeing the name "Theresa Reyes" on the drug money ledger.* He had explicitly told her that he had no one else to call. No one else he could trust in that vulnerable position. He trusted Norma at his most vulnerable. The least she could do was trust him back. In a way that surprised her, she even felt obligated to trust him. She never felt that with George Heldens. George had rather imposed himself into her story than been invited into it...not that she wasn't willing for a time to use him, like a warm port in the storm. She thought back to the whole Jimmy Brennan mess, when she had sat in the police station, sick with worry that Norman would be charged with Jimmy's murder. She never thought to call George. He just showed up. It was the same with James Finnigan.  
_  
-Are you attracted to me?_

_-Yeah, I am, a lot, to be completely honest._  
  
Norma almost laughed out thinking of Alex ever being as open and forthcoming as James Finnigan. Alex didn't go around talking about his feelings with women he happened to find attractive the way James did. But that didn't mean Alex was less honest than James. Alex was honest; he just didn't expose himself. He had discretion. There was something oddly untrustworthy about a person who went around trusting anyone. Alex was guarded and secretive, but the discernment and caution which guided his every utterance and action made him the most trustworthy person Norma had ever known.

So why didn't she trust him with the truth about Sam's death? Because he was the sheriff? No, it was more than that. Even being the sheriff, Norma knew, there was no one less likely to jump to conclusions, to rush to judgement than Alex Romero. This was a guy who, weeks after moving into his new house, still had barely unpacked any of the boxes. Was it just that he was the extremely busy sheriff who would rather come home after a long ass day and drink scotch by the fire than unpack old memories? Or was it something else? Was it an unwillingness to even stay in this house because he wanted to open himself up to something new and better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Timeline screw up & alteration: I realize that I've had Alex discover his mom's name on the ledger too soon. To rectify this, I'm going to say for the sake of this story that Alex & Norma waited one day before going to see Bob Paris. During that day, Norma told Alex where to find the flash drive and he went to retrieve it then. Alex, in my timeline, still has the flash drive. For now, he's hiding it under the loose bricks in front of the fireplace in his house. Problem solved. :)


	6. There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it

Norma couldn't stall the inevitable any longer. She didn't want to wake Alex up, but there was no way around it. She had to get up and get back to her boys and face the music. She had to face Caleb. She moved under Alex's grip and managed to sit up. Little did she know, as she turned to look at him, he was already awake.

He smirked. "Hi there, beautiful."

She grinned. "Good morning, Alex."

He watched her in silence: She stood up and stretched. "I need to get home," she said matter-of-factly.

This had the effect of snapping Alex out of the haze of watching her move in her unique, Norma Bates, perfect way. Getting up as well, he stated that he also needed to get to her home. "My car is there."

"Oh yeah," said Norma. "Quite an adventurous night we had, right, Sheriff?"

"Yes, Mrs. Bates. It's always an adventure with you."

Alex drove Norma back to the Bates motel and residence. Even though it was Norma's car, it felt natural to both of them that Alex would drive. The traditional gender roles were natural to them, with each other, Alex being the driver and protector. Feisty as she was, she was no feminist. Norma was a vintage lady. Retro was no dirty word to Norma. She loved the idea of a traditional marriage, of the wife taking care of her husband and the husband taking care of his wife. It was the best of dreams, to love and be loved.

"I'll go see Bob today," said Alex, breaking the silence.

"Why?"

Alex grimaced. "Norma, his goon was following us last night. He's up to something and I don't trust him. It's tempting to hand the flash drive over to the DEA and let them take care of this shit. Bob will go to prison, and everyone else on that damn ledger. My dad will have more time tacked onto his sentence. That alone is temptation enough."

"Why do you hate your father so much?"

"Why do you hate your brother so much?"

"Alex, please don't give away my flash drive. This is the first time I've ever had any leverage in this town..."

"It's too risky, Norma. But don't worry, I won't do anything hasty."

They fell into silence until Alex asked her what her plans included for the day.

"I'm going to talk to my jackass brother," she snapped.

Alex raised his eyebrows as he glanced at her, quickly, before returning his attention to the road. "That's good, right?"

Norma rolled her eyes. "I guess."

Alex parked her car next to his Sheriff's SUV and turned off the ignition. He climbed out and went to the trunk to retrieve Norma's suitcase.

Norma laughed. "I forgot completely about that. Thanks, Alex."

"Sure," he said as he followed her up the steps with her suitcase.

He ended up following her all the way up to her bedroom because he insisted on carrying her suitcase to its final destination. He stopped in surprise behind her, both of them standing in the doorway, staring at her sons sleeping on her bed. Norman was tucked under the covers. Dylan slept on the top of the covers, fully clothed in his day wear; he slept on his side, turned toward Norman, who was sleeping on his back. Dylan had his arm draped over Norman's chest. Norma and Alex exchanged bemused smiles.

"Hey!" shouted Norma, a bit too aggressively in Alex's opinion. Failing to elicit a response, she repeated herself and added, "Wake up, Norman! Wake up right now!" She walked over to the bed to gently push at Norman.

Dylan first, then Norman snapped awake. "Mother!" expressed an innocently delighted Norman.

Dylan walked around the bed. Not knowing what to say to his mother, he decided to take the suitcase from Alex and put it himself in his mother's closet. It was something he could do in a very awkward moment, while he tried to discern how his mother felt, if she was angry with him or disappointed, or maybe she felt betrayed by his friendship with the brother she (for good reason) hated.

"Come on, let's go," said Norma in her typically decisive, take-no-prisoners demeanor.

"Where are we going?" her sons asked almost in unison.

"We're going to the farm to talk to your uncle."

Dylan looked nervous. Norman looked skeptical. Dylan said, "This might not be the best time. You don't have to. It was a bad idea."

"Doesn't matter," his mother snapped. "The damage is done. We're going."

Dylan and Norman, and then Alex, followed hell-bent Norma down the stairs.

"Why are we doing this?" asked Norman.

"I don't wanna go," said Dylan, reminding Norma of when he was five years old.

"Well, neither do I," she said as she reached the front door. "But I'm not gonna be the mom who says, 'I won't talk to your dad because I hate him because he raped me.' That's not what parents do.'"

Alex froze. Her words twisted his insides. Whose dad raped her? Dylan's? He was confused. He thought they were going to talk to the boys' uncle, Norma's brother. Oh wait... No. It couldn't be.

Unfortunately, there was no time just now to talk to Norma about what she had just said. She was running down the steps before Alex could even fully put the pieces together, and his mind was reeling, his gut churning, as he followed her boys outside. They got in the car with their mother. Alex got his SUV. He reluctantly parted ways from Norma, so many questions in his mind as to what she had inadvertently revealed in his presence, but he had to focus right now on the task at hand: Getting Bob Paris to cut the crap and stop messing with Norma. Luckily, he had the day off.

Alex went back home to shower and change. Bob's office was at the Arcanum Club, a pretty fancy place he didn't want to appear in scruffy and not showered. Alex dressed himself in jeans, a flannel shirt, and his precious leather jacket, and headed over to the club. He didn't even bother with the receptionist in the lobby, no doubt scolding him for not wearing a tie, but Alex couldn't care less. He ran past her, ran up the grand staircase, turned down the discreet hallway he knew so well, and marched into the waiting area for Bob's office. Bob's secretary was on the phone. Alex charged past her. She tried to stop him: "Wait! Hold on, you can't just walk in there!"

Alex did just that: He just walked right in there. "Bob, we need to talk, about Norma."

Bob was grinning ear to ear. "Alex! What a nice surprise. You know Marcus, right?"

Alex felt a chill up his spine as he noticed Marcus Young, candidate for Sheriff in the upcoming election.

"Hello, Sheriff," said Marcus, standing up with that sickening, overly confident manner of his.

"Marcus," Alex said with a curt nod.

"Well, I'll leave you two to chat," said Marcus. "Unless we're not finished, Bob?"

"Oh no," said Bob smugly. "We're finished, Marcus. I'll be in touch."

******

"So Alex? Norma Bates. You guys were quite...inseparable last night."

"Why are you having her followed, you piece of shit?"

Far from being offended, Bob was delighted by Alex's (what Bob would call) feistiness. "Not just her, my friend. We're keeping an eye on you too. In fact... you got a lucky break last night."

"What does that mean?"

"Let's just say, there was a plan...to send you a warning."

"You were going to have me shot."

"We were," said Bob as if having the Sheriff shot ("as a warning") was the most normal thing ever.

"Bob?"

"Alex?"

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you back on my team, Alex, but ever since you've been fixated on that wacko Norma Bates, you've been so unpredictable. That's why I brought Marcus Young to town, but I'm hoping I don't have to use him. I'm hoping to bring you back on board with what is best for this town. The town you and I grew up in."

Alex thought this over. "You want the flash drive, I get that. What if I do this for you? I get the flash drive back to you. Will you leave Norma Bates alone?"

Bob stared at Alex as if reading right through him. Bob had always been able to do that with Alex. Even when they were kids, Bob saw right through Alex's tough act. It was like Bob had some kind of Alex-weakspot detector.

"What is it about Norma Bates, Alex? She's very beautiful, I can certainly see that."

"Don't screw with her, Bob. Don't do it. That's why I came with her the other day, so she's not hanging out there all alone."

"Have a seat, Alex? Want a drink?" Bob stood up and went to the bar.

"No thank you, Bob. I want you to promise me Norma Bates is not in danger."

Bob poured himself a drink and poured one for Alex too, despite Alex's refusal. He walked back to his desk, sat down, and placed Alex's drink near him. Alex begrudgingly took a seat.

"Let's talk about Norma Bates, Alex."

Screw it, thought Alex, picking up his drink and taking a sip. Hear what the bastard has to say.

"I've been reading a lot of...interesting things about her. She's a kinky bitch. Like how she was screwing your deputy, and he ended up dying on her property, but the police report says that you killed him in self-defense." Bob tilted his head, from side to side, that smug smile glued onto his face. "OK," he said laughingly.

"Shelby was going to kill me, and her, and her sons, but he was after me because I found out about the illegal business he was running with Keith Summers." Alex said this like a recitation. His rehearsed story, on reserve for anyone who came asking about Zack Shelby's death. Alex hated to think that Shelby ever put his hands on Norma's body, but he successfully shoved down his emotions and maintained his poker face for Bob.

Unfortunately, Bob was just getting started. He walked around the desk and leaned on it, his arms folded across his chest. "You wanna know what I found out about her late husband?"

"Not really, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

"Well, I'm sure you know all about the domestic abuse. I won't bore you with those details. But did you know that the autopsy revealed that Samuel Bates suffered from cirrhosis of the liver?"

"So what?" Alex genuinely didn't give a shit about the ailments of Norma's abusive husband.

Bob shrugged. "Well, cirrhosis of the liver, commonly resultant from heavy drinking, can cause blood thinning, which is a problem when you're struck by a blunt object and the thing that might save your life is, oh I don't know, a blood clot or two. If he didn't bleed to death, he might have come away from his 'accident' with nothing but a nasty bruise."

"Still not following what this has to do with me or Norma, or you for that matter."

Bob shrugged again and Alex wanted to punch him in the face for being so smug and self-assured. "I just find it interesting that the claim Norma filed with his life insurance said nothing about the blunt force trauma clearly revealed by the autopsy. It just said on the claim that a shelf in the garage fell on him."

"And you don't think a shelf falling on someone constitutes blunt force trauma?"

"I'm not an expert. This is really closer to your forte, Alex. I just find a lot of things about Norma Louise Bates...odd. Don't you?"

Alex was extra careful to keep his stare on Bob steady and devoid of any discernible emotion. Bob stared back at him, with the same steadiness and presence of mind, and the two men were reminded of just how long and how well they knew each other. How Bob used to invite Alex to his family's house because he felt sorry for him, a neglected son of very and variously distracted parents...how Alex had always tolerated Bob's cockiness because Bob had lots of charm and influence in the town. Bob helped guide the introverted Alex into the circle of movers and shakers in White Pine Bay, the kind of people Alex needed to support him in order to be elected Sheriff. They were never friends exactly, but there was always a weird understanding between them, an idea underlying every interaction, that they both understood the game, would play by the rules, and have each other's backs.

Alex finally broke the silence with the question, "What do you want, Bob?"

Bob grinned, satisfied as the Cheshire cat.


	7. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars

_I tolerate certain things and, believe me, I know the nature of the business that fuels this town._

_The rules are what make it possible for all of us to live here together, in a peaceful manner._

When Alex Romero first ran for Sheriff, he was guided by an ideal grounded in a steely determination to be as unlike his father as possible. It wasn't hard to convince the people of White Pine Bay, who had watched him grow up and in many cases grown up alongside him, that he was not going to be the Sheriff Romero of yester yore. Romero Senior was corrupt as the day was long. True, his way of interpreting his job as Sheriff had facilitated the making of many fortunes in the county and especially the county seat that was the town of White Pine Bay. Drug money was the underpin of the local economy. Pull that pin, it all crumbles. Enter Romero Junior.* Full of ideals and hatred for everything his father stood for. But nothing in the Marines nor in his criminal justice training had prepared him for the reality, for the fact that his father had created an unbreakable monster. If you cut off the head, you just create a vacuum for another head to grow in its place. The only way to deal with the monster is to make sure that the head of it understands the rules. White Pine Bay actually had two monsters, two families competing in the drug business: the Morgans and the Fords. In the best of times, the competition between the two families was relatively peaceful. Violence still occurred. Alex knew that was inevitable. It went with the territory, the very nature of the business that fueled the town. But there were limits to what Alex would tolerate. He would not tolerate an all out drug war.

It was purely coincidence, but the arrival of the Bates family from Arizona coincided with the gruesome death of Jerry Martin...in fact, another coincidence, right in front of the just renamed Bates Motel. Martin's warehouse was burned, with him inside it; he was stuffed in his car and sent careening down the road until it crashed at last in a ditch...all witnessed by his own daughter, Bradley, and by Norman Bates, while they waited for the bus to take them to school.

_Nice town you picked, Norma._

Alex suspected Nick Ford at first, because Martin was one of the managers on the Morgan side of the drug business. But it soon became apparent that Martin was actually eliminated by his own side. An internal conflict between him and another Morgan warehouse manager named Gil Turner. Then Gil Turner turned up dead...shot in the face in his own house. And that was when shit started really falling apart. Because the person who filled the vacuum, Zane Morgan, the boss's loser brother, was not one to play by the rules.

_-Things didn't work out so well for Gil so I figured there were better ways of doing...._

_"No, no," Alex told him. "No, there are not...I can be a real nice guy. Until I break you."_

Zane idiotically responded to Alex's warning by burning down the sheriff's house. He made other mistakes too, just as Alex predicted, because that's what cocky, short-sighted people like Zane do. They make lots of mistakes. Dylan Massett, Norma's son, would not have made those mistakes. He had been Alex's personal favorite to fill the vacuum left by Alex shooting Zane and Jodi Morgan. But Dylan turned it down. Dylan had entered the drug business naively, just wanting a job and to make his own money so he could move out of his mother's house. He was too good at the job, however. The bosses liked him and promoted him quickly. He even got Jerry Martin's office. But to take over the whole thing? To fill the shoes of Jodi Morgan? No. Dylan just wanted to grow a few plants on his own little, legal farm and sell it to glaucoma patients. Just enough to get by, to make a living, to be independent. Dylan was no drug lord in the making.

How ironic, thought Alex, that Dylan's little, legal farm became the initial hiding place for Norma's flash drive, storing as it did Bob Paris's ledger of drug money slush funds, implicating all the big shots in White Pine Bay.

The flash drive. Alex parked his car at his house and climbed out. He went straight for the fireplace and bent down to wiggle the loose bricks out of place. There it was. After Norma's temper tantrum about getting something for the flash drive, he had insisted that she give it to him to hide somewhere that didn't put her family at risk. He had promised her that he would keep it and not give it up, to anyone, not the DEA and definitely not to Bob Paris. He felt bad for betraying her now, but he justified it. He had to keep her safe. Bob wasn't going to play along with her demands. As long as Bob didn't have the flash drive, he was going to keep Norma Bates in his crosshairs.

******

Norma was cooking dinner when Alex arrived. "Hi, Alex!" She seemed genuinely happy to see him as she moved aside to let him into the house. "I'm just making dinner. Will you join us? Emma's coming over too."

Alex hesitated. He wanted to talk to her alone. "Sure, Norma, but we need to talk. Alone."

"We're alone now. Norman's in the basement and Dylan went to pick Emma up."

He sat at the table while she resumed her cooking. "I visited Bob today."

"Yeah, you said you would."

"I gave him the flash drive."

Norma dropped the knife she'd been using to cut green onions on the counter. "Alex!" She walked towards him, whining. "Why would you do that?"

"Because, Norma, Bob was having you and me followed. He was going to have me shot yesterday, but I guess I messed up his plan by being with you all night."

"Crap, Alex!" She was angry. "How am I going to get anything from Bob now?"

"He's still going to build you a pool and you're going to have two billboards on the bypass."

"How do you know that? Now that he has the flash drive, he has no reason to do anything for me."

Alex shook his head. "He does have a reason. He's doing it for me. I took care of it. Norma, you're going to have trust me."

Norma sighed. "I do trust you. I don't trust Bob."

"Who's Bob?" Alex turned to see Norman standing in the doorway.

"Don't worry about it, honey," Norma said sharply. "I thought you were in the basement."

"I came up to see who was at the door. I hope everything is ok, Sheriff?"

"Yes, Norman. Everything is fine."

"I invited him to join us for dinner," said Norma.

Alex noticed the disturbance on Norman's face, but a less observant person might have missed it, because Norman recovered very quickly. "Oh. How nice of you, Mother. And impressively patriotic, to feed one of our most dedicated civil servants."

Norma rolled her eyes. "Norman, shut up. Come on, Alex. We can talk outside. I need to pick some herbs."

"Is Norman still upset about you leaving like you did last night?" Alex asked after they were outside and out of Norman's earshot.

"No, he's just being a smart ass. He probably thinks we're dating."

Alex suppressed the grin that threatened to take over his face. "And he doesn't like that? The idea of you and me... dating?"

"Probably. He was an ass about me seeing George. Zack too, although I can hardly blame him for disliking Zack."

"I'm not George and I'm definitely not Zack."

She looked at him smugly. "What are you saying?"

The sound of a vehicle pulling up to the house made Norma turn away and prevented Alex from doing something he'd been thinking of doing ever since that day on the porch of the motel, when they awkwardly hugged and Norma told him she always felt safe when he was staying there.

What happened next freaked Alex out. The way the guy came creeping up the steps, clutching a bouquet, and staring at Norma, and the way Norma looked afraid, tempted Alex to run interference. Norma held him back. "It's ok, he's my brother," she said.

Alex watched in astonishment as Norma approached Caleb. Alex stepped toward them, but maintained some distance, torn between feeling that he was intruding on a private moment between siblings and wanting to protect her.

"What are you doing here?" Norma asked her brother.

"I picked you some flowers. I remember you like these. Lupines. We used to run around the hills and pick 'em."

Norma couldn't speak.

"Well, I was just gonna leave 'em for you. And this...this note. It's..." Caleb's stutter got worse, no doubt from the uncertainty generated by Norma's silence. "Basically thanks for talking to me this morning. It meant a lot to me." He held the flowers forward for her take, but she didn't take them.

"We can't be friends, Caleb."

Alex thought he saw tears on the man's face, but even with the lamp lighting the steps, it was dark. Caleb looked crestfallen. "No, I understand. OK. Goodbye. Norma."

Caleb put the flowers on the steps and turned to leave.

"Caleb." Norma walked after him. He stopped. "Do you wanna stay for dinner? Just for tonight."

Caleb turned around.

"The family's here. We can all be together. But just for tonight."

******

Dylan and Emma arrived and were in the living room, with Caleb. Alex stuck close to Norma in the kitchen while she put the finishing touches on what promised to be another one of her amazing meals. He had a million questions, but thought better of voicing any of them.

"Nice of you to invite him for dinner," he said by way of breaking the ice.

"Yeah."

"It's more than I would do," said Alex with a forced laugh. "If my father suddenly made parole, which I'll make sure he never does-"

"Alex, I don't want to talk about it. It's just one night, one dinner. I'm doing it for Dylan, not Caleb."

"Why just for Dylan? He's Norman's uncle too."

He noticed her face lose some of its lovely color. "Well... he and Dylan have... become close."

Alex nodded, unconvinced. He remembered very well what she had said that morning. Apparently she forgot or didn't realize that he had been there to hear it.

But I'm not gonna be the mom who says, 'I won't talk to your dad because I hate him because he raped me.' That's not what parents do.

"Norma..."

"What?"

"I heard you this morning. I was there."

"Heard me what? What are you talking about?"

Alex felt his insides twist. He hated saying the words, but he had to tell her that he knew. "About Dylan's dad. Raping you. You hate him but you don't want to be that mom who forbids her son to have a relationship with his father."

It was like the temperature in the room suddenly dropped below freezing. Norma shuddered. "I didn't know you heard that."

"Well, I was standing right there. I was here the whole time. I brought your suitcase up."

"Yeah, I remember. I just..." Norma looked like she might be sick. "You must... I can't imagine you think of me right now."

Alex sighed as he stepped toward her. "I'm thinking that you're the bravest person I've ever known."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shout out AngeloftheMorning1978 who wrote Same Color Blue and Same Color Blue (Remake), my favorite of all the Normero stories on here. (Lots of long ass chapters and even a very long ass story that will grip you from start to finish.) I would love to use her "Little Bear" name for Alex, but I don't want to rip off her idea. I love the way she characterizes Alex as the "Little Bear", son of the Old Bear Sheriff, in White Pine Bay. Great story! Go read it if you haven't already.


	8. I can resist everything except temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not resist the irony of Oscar Wilde.

He was now standing close enough to see the tears welling in her eyes. He managed to wipe a single tear that escaped with his thumb and was just about to trail his fingers down her face when Emma came in.

"Hey Norma, do you need any help?" Emma started when she saw the intimate moment she had interrupted. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Norma sniffed, recovering with her characteristic tenacity. "Thanks, Emma. Sure. You can help me carry these dishes to the dining room." The three of them actually set to work setting the table in the rarely used, antique dining room. Norma was careful to direct Emma to the things she could carry one-handed, since the girl had to pull her oxygen tank too.

Norma went to check on the others, leaving Emma and Alex in the dining room. It was uncomfortable, as they barely knew each other. Alex didn't really know much about Emma or her father apart from that Emma worked in the motel, had cystic fibrosis, and was the daughter of the local taxidermist, some of whose work apparently decorated the Arcanum Club. Will Decody was a stranger to Alex, an enigma even, with his weird talent and British accent. Taxidermy itself, the result rather than the process of the craft, was not objectionable to Alex. The stuffed deer in his office was useful in projecting to the world an image of unfuckwithable Sheriff Romero.

"It was good of you to be with Norma that night," said Emma, breaking the silence while she placed the silverware. "It did a lot to ease her sons' minds, I'm sure, just knowing you were with her."

Alex's face stayed frozen in 'sheriff mode' as he said, "Right. Yeah. I'm glad." He was relieved when he heard music and Norma singing. They both walked to the living room and Alex was amazed to see Norma playing the piano. Her voice was lovely. Her brother was singing too, not nearly as well, but she seemed happy to have him singing along. Alex couldn't understand it, but then there were still so many things about Norma Bates that were mysterious to him. Alex found himself lost in her song, "Tonight you belong to me," and was transfixed by the glow of her skin in the lamplight above the piano.

Norman startled Alex, Emma, and Dylan by creeping up and asking in horror, "You invited him into our house?" The question was directed at Dylan and it was obvious to Alex Norman was referring to Caleb.

Dylan looked uncomfortable. "I didn't," he said. "She did."

Alex made a point to observe Norman for the rest of the serenade. The spell had been broken. He was back in detective mode. Norman was calm on the surface, but Alex sensed a storm brewing underneath. Norman was a ticking time bomb. It was no wonder Norma was perpetually in a state of panic and worry. Alex recognized what she couldn't...that Norman was dangerous, and Alex did not believe, as she did, for one second that Norman would never hurt a fly or his own mother. The kid who (probably) killed Blaire Watson and (definitely) his own father... Sure, Sam was being violent and horrible to Norma, but Alex knew too well the kind of strength it took to hit someone hard enough for the person to die. What if Norman flew into a rage and blacked out and hurt Norma? Alex didn't think he could go on if anything ever happened to Norma...

******

Dinner was incredible. Alex couldn't remember the last time he had such a great meal. Even the awkward moment of Caleb standing up and offering a toast to "Norma Louise, who has always been like the sun in a cold universe," was quickly overcome by Norma's radiant smile and insistence that everyone eat up. It wasn't lost on Alex that Norma had placed him at the head of the table. They were on opposite ends and it felt almost like... Alex dared not follow the thought too far, but he felt, as he and Norma made eye contract and raised their glasses to each other in an air toast, like they were...something... He felt the hope of something. He had to be the shelter in her storm, to protect her from the vultures and chaos swirling around her.

Alex helped her wash the dishes. Emma offered to help, but Alex insisted and Dylan backed him up, as he wanted to drive Emma home, having promised her dad that he'd have her home, safe and sound, at a decent hour. (Mr. Decody was even more protective of his chronically sick child than usual after her night over at the Bates house to help Dylan deal with Norman.) Caleb left after a clumsy exchange of goodbyes with his son/nephew and sister/co-parent. That left Alex and Norma seemingly alone, and the two quickly fell into a rhythm, her washing and he drying/restocking. It wasn't hard to get the hang of what went where in Norma's kitchen. She had things organized in such a precise way, it was easy to figure out the pattern, and Alex was more observant than the average person.

"Thank you for helping me clean up," said Norma. "I really didn't expect you to."

"I know," he said. "I was hoping we could talk some more."

Her face fell. "About Caleb?"

"Well, no actually, I thought we could talk some more about Norman."

She looked nervous. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. The basement?"

Norma rushed to the doorway to the dining room and saw Norman sitting there, still and silent. "Norman? What are you doing?"

He looked up. "Nothing, Mother."

"Well, why are you sitting in here alone? It's weird."

"Weird?" Norman looked at her accusingly. "Like you inviting your rapist to join us for dinner? Or Sheriff Romero wanting to talk to you about me?" He nodded at Alex, who had come up to stand behind Norma. "Sheriff? Did you want to ask me some questions?"

"No, Norman."

"Well, I just thought talking to me directly might be more effective than talking to my mother about me."

"I'll keep that in mind, Norman."

Norma rolled her eyes. "Norman, stop being so passive aggressive. It's not very masculine and it's unattractive. Go finish the dishes."

Alex was slightly taken aback. He had always thought of Norma as the type of parent who only said nice things to her children, in a nice voice, and give them stars even when they did nothing to deserve it. He was impressed. 17-year-old Norman had been acting like a jerk all night and Alex thought the last thing he needed was a gold star for it.

As Norma led the way, for Alex to follow, out onto the porch, they heard Norman saying, "Fine, Mother. I'll go finish the dishes, in a masculine and attractive way."

******

"Why do children have to grow up and become pains in the ass?" Norma complained as she and Alex stepped outside.

Alex chuckled softly.

"Norman was such a sweet baby, Alex. To see him now, the smart ass, you'd never know he was the dearest boy who ever lived."

"Well, he's been through a lot, hasn't he? Losing his father? Moving up here? Starting over? He was close to Bradley Martin, wasn't he?"

"Mmm." Norma acknowledged it.

Alex shrugged. "Well, she committed suicide. That can't have been easy for Norman to deal with."

"No, I suppose not."

"And then there was seeing Jimmy Brennan fall to his death. And losing his friend Cody as a result."

"Well, Cody didn't die."

"No, but she had to move to Indiana, to live with the only relative willing to take her."

"Troubled girls are drawn to Norman. I don't get it."

"You've said yourself, he's very sensitive," said Alex.

"Do troubled girls want sensitive teenage boys?" Norma questioned. "I thought they wanted tough guys. Bad boys. I thought they wanted James Dean, not Jimmy Stewart."

"Is Norman Jimmy Stewart?"

Norma's face positively exploded from happiness. "Norman is totally Jimmy Stewart. I've always said that. Dylan is James Dean."

"And you're Marilyn Monroe," Alex said before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted it.

Norma was stunned. "What? No I'm not."

Alex looked away, embarrassed. "Well, I mean, she was Norma Jean. She was blonde. Gorgeous."

"She was gorgeous," agreed Norma.

Alex forced himself to lift his eyes to look into hers. "So are you."

"I know you're attracted to me."

"Oh do you now?"

Norma rolled her eyes. "Are you flirting with me, Sheriff?"

The way she was looking at him was encouragement to Alex and he stepped toward her. "What if I am?"

The corner of Norma's mouth turned up and her eyes were bright and full of excitement. He took this for further encouragement and stepped so close that their bodies were touching: not too much, but just enough to create the tingling sensation, the "butterflies" in the stomach, and the weak knees. His hands ran up her arms, flat hands, not gripping, just gliding upward.

The thrill of this way he was touching her made Norma feel unsteady. To steady herself, she grabbed his arms. But contrary to the hoped for steadiness, this action had the opposite effect. His arms were so firm and strong, and now his hands were gently cupping her face, and his mouth was inches from hers, their breath intermingled...

They were so caught up in the intensity of the moment, they failed to hear the footsteps slowly approaching. Dylan was stepping up toward the porch, his mouth open, his eyes wide, and an overall look of horror on his face. He stopped just shy of the steps that led onto the porch and just stared at them. His mind was jammed. Power of speech or thought? Forget about it. His eventual utterance of "What the-" at last broke the spell between his mother and the sheriff, and Alex, looking up first, jumped back at the sight of Dylan. Norma turned around.

"Dylan!"

"Hello, Norma." (This was definitely not a moment for calling his mother Mom.) He immediately felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I just...I was just coming by to pick up something. I'm going to spend the night at the farm."

"OK." Dylan's embarrassment was nothing in proportion to hers, or Alex's.

"Right," said Dylan, his mouth closing. "Well, I'm gonna go up."

When Dylan was inside, leaving Alex and Norma alone on the porch again, the pair exchanged smiles impossible to repress. They laughed out their embarrassment.

"Well, I-I guess I should go," said Alex. All the questions he had for her, he had forgotten them.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." She pulled her sweater tight and hugged herself. "Good night, Alex."

"Good night, Norma. Thanks for dinner."

"Yeah. I'm so glad you came. You should come for dinner more often. Better than those frozen dinners I've seen you buy."

He couldn't argue with that. "So I...I guess I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Come by anytime. You have my number?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I have your number. You have mine?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

It felt like they were in high school. Alex couldn't remember the last time he had felt so much like a doofus with a member of the 'fairer' sex. His longtime-in-the-making, and carefully cultivated aura of stoicism and tough-guy-ness just completely fell apart around Norma Bates. He was confident and fearless in his daily interactions with the most hardened criminal minds, but when it came to Norma Bates... It was weird. She made him feel powerful and powerless at the same time. He felt freedom in her presence, but out of control. He went home and, as usual, after nursing a couple of glasses of Scotch, hit the pillow with his head playing his near-kiss with Norma on 'repeat all.' His subconscious mind went even further, presenting to him, though he would never recall it in his conscious state, many possible, very pleasurable scenarios of what that moment could have led to.


	9. Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.

Bob Paris was a bastard and he knew it. Actually, he loved it. It amused him being that guy who knew all the skeletons in everyone's closet in White Pine Bay. It literally tickled him and he couldn't help grinning over, for example, the fact that when he looked at his old buddy Sheriff Alex Romero he could see right through him.

_-I've known you a long time, Alex. I can read your face._

Alex had always been a favorite for Bob to tease; unlike the other kids, Bob was never intimidated by the old Sheriff's phlegmatic son. No one got under Alex's skin the way Bob could. _Well, except that nutty Bates woman,_ he thought grinning wickedly. _God what is it that woman has over him?_ Whatever it was, it was hilarious to Bob. He relished watching Alex try to hide his facial twitches whenever Bob just mentioned her by name. "Go to Norma Bates and get the flash drive," Bob had said to Alex, knowing damn well that Alex would be freaked out by the knowledge that his precious Norma was involved. "You know her, right?" Bob knew exactly how to play the Sheriff. He'd been gradually mastering the art of playing with Alex Romero ever since they were kids. And the look on Alex's face when Bob had dropped the information that Norma had the flash drive, well let's just say it did not disappoint the always-ready-for-amusement old boy's club executive.

Alex had been going soft lately, what with his sudden intolerance for the drug business (or least the in-fighting and bullshit that went with the territory) and his concern about "woman girls" like Lindsay Davis and Annika Johnson.

_-I feel the heavy weight of your judgement, Alex._

_-I've got a great idea. Let's play a little game of what's worse? Sex parties, or... letting the town erupt into a drug war, which leads to the DEA showing up and burning down the town's source of commerce?_

Bob had Marcus Young come to town expressly to shake Alex up. If Alex was no longer willing to play ball, who better to unseat the Sheriff in the next election than a Marcus Young? It pained Bob to have to do it. A Sheriff Marcus Young would be far less fun for Bob to deal with. He'd much rather bring Alex back on board. Fortunately for Bob, he'd found Alex's deepest, inexplicable but undeniable weak spot.

"I don't want to have to replace you with that boring 'yes man' Marcus Young," Bob lamented to Alex. "But your behavior lately, I'm afraid it leaves me little choice."

"Don't mess with her, Bob."

"Don't make me have to."

And just like that. That was all it took for Bob to get his favorite sheriff back on his team.

_-You're so far from being morally superior to me, it's ridiculous._

******

Alex had a seemingly endless amount of paperwork to file on the day following his near-kiss with Norma. With Bob's smug approval, he managed to close the murder cases of both Annika Johnson and Lindsay Davis by pinning them both to the conveniently eliminated, Bob-Paris-goon Clay DuFont.

Bob had his flash drive back. Norma was safe, but at what cost? Alex closing murder cases to cover for Bob's ass?!

Alex was in such a bad mood after concluding all of it, he decided to take a drive. Per usual, when he went out on random patrols, he drove past the Bates Motel. There was some construction going on right in front of Norma's house. A dump truck was digging a massive hole just to side of the motel, close to where Norma always parked her vintage Mercedes. Norma herself, wearing one of her matronly floral dresses in a way only she could make sexy, stood watching the process. Alex parked his SUV next to her car and stepped out of it. She looked at him with those magnificent blue eyes of hers, a smile taking over her face, and Alex's heart melted. Norman was standing next to her, though, and he looked quite a bit less than pleased by the ever-expanding hole in front of his home.

"What's going on, Norma?" Alex asked, trying and barely succeeding to maintain his sheriff bulldog persona in the face of Norma's radiance.

"Ha!" she cried. "The swimming pool? Don't you remember? Bob Paris sent these guys to dig the hole for the pool!"

Alex noticed Norman jerk his head so that he was looking right his mother.

"Bob Paris? Who is that, Mother?"

Norma's face fell. Alex knew she was trying to formulate a good explanation for Norman without telling him about the flash drive.

Alex did what came naturally to him; he came to her rescue. "Bob Paris is a key investor in this town, Norman. He's decided to help your mother because helping the motel helps him. What, with the new bypass and the new outlet malls to attract all those Portland suburban shoppers and day trippers, there's renewed interest in our local hospitality industry." Alex knew this was bullshit. Bob Paris didn't give a shit about the hospitality industry. Nevertheless, it was just the kind of logic to quell the curiosity of Norma's teenaged son; and even better, as far as Alex was concerned, it made Norma presently look at him with overflowing gratitude.

Norman curtly nodded. "Right. Well, Mother, I'll be in the office, ready to explain to our guests why they should avoid the giant hole beside the motel, for the danger of falling in! Perhaps we should draw up a release of liability form for our guests to sign?" With a huff, the lanky 17-year-old motel manager skulked away.

Norma rolled her eyes. "Well, I suppose he does raise a good point about liability, but thank you, Alex."

"Not a problem," said Alex, satisfied with himself for being able to help her. "But, Norma, it's kinda deep, don't you think?"

She just stood there, smiling at him, and he felt himself falling, helplessly, into the abyss of her eyes.

"Listen, Norma," he finally managed to say. "I was wondering if..."

"Yeah?"

"If you might like... to have dinner with me tonight?"

She positively beamed. "You wanna come again for dinner? I'd love that."

Alex shook his head. "No, I meant... I'd like to take you out to a nice restaurant, something better than that tourist trap of bad imitation Hawaiian cuisine."

Norma grinned. "Oh, I didn't think it was _that_ bad."

"Yes, you did."

Norma cocked her head to the side, unable to deny it. "Yeah, it was pretty horrible."

"So what do you say? I'll pick you up around seven?"

"Seven thirty," Norma amended. "Give me some extra time to whip something up for Norman, and Dylan in case he runs out of cold pizza at the farm."

Alex's heart swelled the way it always did when Norma expressed such caring and love for her boys. It also broke slightly at the realization, gradually dawning on him lately, that the shitheads never seemed to appreciate it. Alex couldn't begrudge them too much, however. He had never appreciated his own mother nearly enough and even now blamed himself for her depression and suicide. He knew logically that his mother's suicide was not his fault, but somehow, no matter how he tried to deflect all the blame on his father, he never shook the feeling that if he had been a more attentive son, if he had hugged her more often, spent less time playing baseball with Bob Paris and Jimmy Brennan, if only he'd given more attention to his mother, reminded her that she was important to him, to someone...

******

Alex didn't want to take Norma out to eat in one of the overpriced but sub-par restaurants in White Pine Bay. It wasn't that he was unwilling to have locals see them together. He didn't give a damn what people said about his private life. He just wanted something better for her. After everything she'd been through, had been subjected to by the assholes in this town, he didn't want to expose her to anymore degradation. It made his skin crawl when he sensed people's judgement of her as a bad mother or "that crazy Bates woman" simply because of events that happened beyond her control. They blamed her for Shelby's death on her property even though they knew nothing about the real circumstances. They simply made up absurd stories about it and everyone believed the gossip as if it was biblical. They blamed her alleged smother-mothering on the way that "weirdo Norman Bates" had turned out. _Everyone always blames the mother._ Alex felt that Norman's problems were likely to be as much, if not more, attributable to his father as his mother. After all, Dylan, also Norma's son, seemed to have turned out fairly well, there being nothing too alarming (it seemed to Alex) about a young man in his 20s having some bitterness, a chip on his shoulder, and being cynical about the world at large. Above all, Alex's reason for wanting a little space from the town tonight with Norma was his intention of deepening their intimacy...emotional rather than physical, although if they could also achieve physical intimacy tonight, Alex certainly would not complain! He wanted to finally ask her all the questions that had been building up in his mind, and he hoped with a full heart that she would answer those questions honestly.

From the Sheriff's Department, he made a reservation at a very expensive restaurant about ten miles inland. It was still in White Pine Bay County. In fact, the Castle Rock Hotel overlooked one of the most scenic spots on White Pine River. It was a resort with a golf course and its restaurant boasted of the best oysters in the county. Admittedly, it was the kind of place that guy George Heldens might have taken Norma. Then again, thought Alex, Heldens seemed more the type to do a home-date with a woman like Norma, just so he could show off his fancy house and ridiculously pricey wine collection. Alex loved that the Castle Rock Hotel was fancy without being elitist. It had a quaint rather than pretentious feel to it. Alex smiled to himself as he walked inside the place with Norma, his hand hovering over the small of her back. He couldn't take his eyes off her, she looked so amazing. True to her vintage taste, she wore a knee-length black dress. The skirt part of the dress was A-line and had a pattern of floral appliqués. It had long sheer sleeves, and four buttons between the black bow on the front and the high neckline. Her beauty, as always, left Alex embarrassingly tongue tied.

"You look nice in a tie, Sheriff," she said, smiling, as they both opened their wine menus.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bates. But you've seen me in a suit before."

"True, but this one is much nicer. Better tie. Green is a great color on you, by the way. Compliments your eyes."

"My green tie compliments my brown eyes?" Alex teased.

"Yes," said Norma unflinchingly. "Brown is the secondary color made by combining red and green."

Alex took a sip of water because he didn't know what to say to that. The color wheel and how it relates to the optics of fashion were matters beyond understanding or interest to the law enforcement professional. He also thought it somewhat hyperbolic of Norma, who had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, to speak about his eyes as anything special. How could a pair of common brown eyes compare to the ever-changeable, emotionally reflective pools in the sockets on Norma's face?

Alex was never one to put much stock in religion, let alone the concept of some pie-in-the-sky god and creator of all mankind; however, if there was a god, Alex was grateful to that higher being for the existence of alcohol. He didn't think he'd have gotten through this date with Norma without the relaxing effects of the expensive chardonnay he had ordered. As they progressed through the bottle and feasted on oysters Rockefeller, their comfort and enjoyment together increased steadily. She was fascinated to hear about his backstory... Joining the Marines after high school, serving in the rate of Military Police at Camp Pendleton, marrying his buddy's sister only two months into the relationship and divorcing six months after that...

"I realized after about a week that I'd made a terrible mistake and I just became really impossible to be around. I know, very mature. She left me."

"Awe," said Norma, genuinely feeling sorry for 19-year-old version of the man sitting beside her right now.

"How about you?" he prompted, digging for her own backstory. He looked at her sympathetically while she squirmed uncomfortably. He knew from the already, gradually revealed little bits of her past marriages that they had to have been nightmarish.

"Well," she began. "I married my high school sweetheart, right after high school. Actually, before we finished. He knocked me up, so we got married and finished by GED. It was all right for awhile. He worked, I was pregnant, we were excited for the baby. Young and stupid and believing ourselves in love, you know?"

"This was Dylan's father," said Alex. As soon as he said it, he regretted saying it. No, of course not, he knew John Massett wasn't Dylan's biological father. He knew the truth now. But there was no reason to go over _that_ again.

"Right," she nodded, clearly having a similar train of thought and agreeing in a wish to not go over it again. "John. Well, you know, not long after Dylan came along, things started going sour between us. He became distant. I was angry. I met Sam and we had an affair. John found out and left me and so I married Sam."

"Norman's father."

"Yep." She took a large swig of wine. "Shortest honeymoon phase ever. The mask slipped and the monster came out."

Alex's stomach twisted in knots and he wanted to reach into her past and kick the shit out of Sam Bates.

"We moved around all the time. Sam never could keep a job for long. He even tried running his own business, but he had a penchant for making enemies and we were always forced to move and start over. He always promised to change, to be a better husband and father, but everywhere we went, there we were and the drinking just got worse." Tears welled in her sapphire orbs.

"Norma..." Alex touched her hand on the table.

She wiped her eyes and forced a smile as she looked at him. "I got Norman out of it, so it was worth it."

Alex craved more from her, but he feared to tread too deeply too quickly. He didn't want to scare her away. He longed to ask her about Sam's "accident" but instead, he decided to tiptoe around it. He'd get there eventually. For now, he needed to secure her trust. "It must have been terrifying," he probed gently. "You and Norman starting over here, all on your own, and not having any support."

"It's always been just Norman and me," she said with a sigh. "Even when Sam was alive, it was just Norman and me. We were happy as long as it was just us. We'd watch old movies and eat turkey pot pie."

"Where was Dylan?"

"Oh, Dylan left home as soon as he could. He couldn't wait to get out of there and I don't blame him. I wasn't a good mother to Dylan. I failed to protect him. No wonder he calls me Norma."

"I always wondered about that."

Norma lifted her eyes to meet Alex's. "I'm not a good person, Alex. I stayed in an abusive relationship for almost two decades. I let my husband hurt my older son. I let Norman grow up in a house full of yelling and violence. All because I was afraid. I'm sure I'd still be living that life if Sam didn't die and he might even have killed me."

It was now or never. Norma was more open to him than ever and Alex had to seize the moment. "How did he die, Norma?"

"You know how he died."

"A shelf in the garage fell on him?" he asked disbelievingly. "Come on, Norma."

If it wasn't for the wine, she'd have never tolerated this. A sober Norma would have closed the walls and turned cold and angry. But no, actually, it was more than that. She was different and Alex was differnet and they were different people than the ones who'd met each other on a rainy night, on the porch of the motel, Norma trying to explain to Alex and his deputy why she and her son were pulling up carpet at 3am on a school night. Alex was her friend now, no longer the intimidating "Sheriff Bulldog" who made her heart stop in fear. This was Alex who sat before her, Alex who had insisted on overpaying for his three months in her motel while his new house was being built, Alex who always made her feel safe, Alex who had embraced her when she broke down in tears of frustration, who held her hand and supported her, against his own better judgement, in confronting Bob Paris, because that is what she wanted to do...Alex who made her laugh and kept her safe on that horrible night when her sons had broken the news to her about Caleb living at Dylan's farm...that night which, without Alex to cushion her breakdown, might have devolved into a series of irreversible, colossal mistakes.

"Norman killed his father," she blurted out in a barely audible voice.


	10. A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her

Norma was having a panic attack. Alex stared at her, dumbfounded and yet full of clarity at the same time. He knew what he needed to do.. He needed to touch her, to bring her into his arms, to kiss her and tell her that everything would be all right. But he was frozen. He couldn't move. He couldn't act. He just stared at her while she lost the ability to breathe properly.

"OK, Alex," she managed to get out between hysterics. "I don't know why I said that. It's...crazy. Sam died...accident. Norman crying, Norman crying, he couldn't believe his father...dead... Accident, Alex. Accident."

"Norma?" Alex breathed.

"Alex?" Norma pleaded. "Alex?"

Later, looking back, Alex never quite recalled how he was able to do it- how he had gotten Norma to stand up, to walk with him, to reserve a room in the hotel, and walk Norma to the elevators, to get her up to Room 411, to get her to lie down, take her shoes off, and let him wipe her face with a cold washcloth. The staff of the hotel were very accommodating. They brought the meal and drinks they had ordered in the restaurant up to the room. Not that Alex had any intention of letting Norma drink anymore alcohol, but he did manage to coax her to eat some soup.

There was just silence for what seemed like hours. Alex kept spooning soup into Norma's mouth as long as she seemed desirous for more. When she turned over, on her side, away from him, he set the 3/4 empty container on the table between the room's double beds.

"Norma?"

"Alex?" She was tearful. "What I said... about Norman..."

Alex put his hand on her shoulder. "It's ok, Norma."

"Is it?" She asked, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. "There's no statute of limitations on murder."

Alex grimaced. "I know, but, don't worry. Just trust me, ok? Don't worry."

"He was trying to protect me, Alex. Sam was hurting me."

"It's ok, Norma. Don't worry."

"He blacked out. He forgot. He forgot, Alex. He doesn't know."

Alex laid down on the bed and spooned Norma against him. He held his tongue, despite having a million ideas of what to say to her right now. He wanted her to speak, to talk herself out, to feel safe enough to do so.

"The only other person who knows, besides now you, is Dylan. And Norman, although he doesn't know the details, and I never would have told him anything, but I had to tell him something. I'd rather he go on suspecting I might have done it rather than know the truth. Because no matter what, Norman's not going to hate me. Even if he thought I killed Sam, his father, he would never hate me. He would think I must have done it out of self-defense and his instinct would be to protect me. But knowing the truth, I know somewhere deep inside him, he hates himself for it. I know Norman. I know him better than anyone, even himself. He already tried to kill himself once."

"He did?" Alex blurted the words before he knew what he was doing. Norman attempted suicide? For a reason he couldn't quite put a label to, somehow that surprised Alex. Maybe it was because of his gradual, gut feelings that Norman was actually a danger to others, even if his mother didn't want to believe it. Somehow, it never occurred before to Alex that Norman was also a danger to himself.

"In the woods. Just after that Jimmy Brennan died. Norman took it really hard and I guess Cody said something to him. I don't know what she said, but after that whole thing happened, suddenly Norman is asking me, demanding for me to tell him about his father's death and what really happens to him when he blacks out. I wouldn't do it and he just became impossible to be around. It was right around the time you were breathing down my neck about that stupid polygraph."

"I wasn't breathing down your neck," Alex said, more defensively than he meant to. "I needed answers."

"Well, you got them, didn't you?"

"I guess."

Norma turned around in his arms and looked at him. "What do you mean? You guess?"

It broke Alex's heart how sad she looked. Her mascara was all smeared from so much crying but she was still so beautiful. So beautiful and so sad and helpless, and Alex felt helpless too, helpless to make it all ok for her, and that's what broke his heart.

In answer to her query, he shrugged and sighed. "I don't know, Norma." He couldn't look at her just now. He looked away at anything as he tried to formulate his doubts into words. "That polygraph... I... Ever since you told me about the blackouts, I just..."

Her jaw tightened and she seemed to be trying to keep herself from losing her temper. "You think... You think he only passed because he can't remember?"

Alex still could not look at her as he exhaled, rolled onto his back, and averted his eyes to the ceiling. How could he tell her about his fear that he'd become no better a man than his criminal father? That he'd become his worst idea of a sheriff- that sheriff who railroads a douchebag like Kyle Miller into prison for murder simply because he needs to close the case and, who the hell wouldn't believe a douchebag like Kyle Miller would slit the throat of a woman like Blaire Watson? Two semen samples found in Blair Watson, one was Kyle Miller, convicted criminal, how convenient for the sheriff who happened to be frustrated and embarrassed that it was taking him so damn long to close the damn case. How convenient for the man falling in love with Norma Bates, to have a Kyle Miller to divert attention from Norma's son, who had been so weirdly close to his literature teacher and advisor, who had even been visiting her grave and taking pictures of another person, it turned out her own father, visiting her grave.

Norma took Alex's silence and refusal to look at her in the worst way. It fueled her anger. Actually, you could say it gave her the perfect excuse to be angry for the wrong reasons. She got up from the bed. Alex sat up and watched her put on her shoes and then grab her purse and finally move to the door. He jumped up and stopped her from leaving. She stood there, facing the door, defiant; and he held her just tightly enough to keep her from moving. It took every ounce of self-restraint to not start kissing her neck.

"Let me go, Alex."

"No. You had a lot to drink, Norma."

"No, I didn't."

"You had three glasses of wine."

"I'll call a cab."

"Norma, just come on and sit down. Let's talk about it."

"Why? So I can listen to you telling me you believe Norman is a murderer?"

"Norma."

"No, Alex!" She turned around and pushed him. Not having anticipated her to become physically combative, he lost his balance slightly and took a moment to steady himself. "I'm not going to listen to you talk to me about my own son who you barely know! It was a mistake to tell you anything! It was a mistake to think you're my friend! It was a mistake to ever trust you and believe me I'll never make that mistake again!"

Those last words hit him where it hurts most. The solar plexus. The words felt like a real punch in the gut. She'd never trust him again. He felt winded. He was losing her. Out of sheer desperation, he moved towards her and pinned her against the door. She tried to push him away, so he pinned her arms up above her head and held them there. Their faces were inches apart and he stared at her, right in the eyes, with grim determination, to say with his own eyes what he couldn't say in words. "You need to trust me, Norma."

"Why?" she barely managed to choke out, because she was crying again. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm always going to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you or either of your sons. Do you hear me?"

She couldn't speak. She just cried. She avoided his gaze. The way he was looking at her, the way it made her feel. The way no man had ever looked at her before. Not with so much love. Things no man had ever made her feel before. To feel so adored. To feel so safe. Because Norma couldn't help being Norma, she suspected Alex was just a very good actor, or a magician, and this was all an elaborate trick, to make her believe him and fall in love with him only to betray her.

"Don't touch me," she said. "Don't you dare touch me."

He let go of her immediately. And just like that, she was out the door.

******

He ran after her. "Norma!"

She refused to turn back. She almost ran down the hallway and right into the elevator, which had just opened. Alex almost knocked over the young, sweet, romantic couple who stepped off the elevator. He offhandedly, carelessly muttered "sorry" as he brushed past them to stand in the elevator with Norma. The doors closed and the elevator started its descent.

"I'm capable of arranging for a ride home, Alex. I'm tipsy, not drunk."

"No, I'm driving you home. I'm not leaving you alone."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm not your babysitter. I'm your friend." Alex could hardly believe he had said the word 'friend.' Alex Romero never had 'friends.' People, sure. People he worked with, dealt with, played with occasionally. But not friends. Norma Bates was the first to change that. And at the same time that it felt good to call himself her friend, and to have heard her recently, multiple times, describe him that way, it felt strangely empty. Not enough. It was satisfying in a way, to a point, to be her friend, but also not enough. No, it would never be enough to just be her friend.

As for Norma, she wanted more than anything to believe him, to trust him, even to let herself fall in love with him. (It was hard even to be mad at him for suspecting Norman only passed that polygraph because of his lost time, knowing deep down within herself that it was exactly the truth!) It was an epic battle that was raging inside her. Heart versus Head, Hope versus Experience, Mother versus Woman. For now, she decided to let Alex win this little, insignificant battle. She would let him drive her home. It wasn't worth the effort or the false sense of pride she might feel in "winning" the "privilege" of arranging her own transport. She just wanted to be home, to rest her head in her own bed, and pretend she was one of those shiny people who had "normal" lives. Maybe in her dreams she could be the kind of woman who could date a handsome man like Alex Romero without constantly worrying that the other shoe was about the drop.

They walked to the parking lot in silence. With one hand, he opened the passenger side door for her, his other hand hovering just over the small of her back. This was becoming a habit, and for just a second, Norma felt like they were one of those "normal" couples.

Then it happened. So suddenly, so quickly, so horribly, Norma hardly registered her own breathing. Gunshots. Alex bleeding, falling to the cement. The screeching tires of a black SUV racing past them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) OK. So I began this story on the premise that the shooting never happens, but it led me to Alex being shot anyway. Sorry about that. Don't worry, though. I will never write a story in which Alex would die. He's my favorite character in this godforsaken series. In my story, Alex will always live. So don't worry, reader. Just brace yourself for some angst and pain and drama. If anybody can survive it all, it's Alex! (Hell, Norma too, for that matter; and together, they're even stronger!) :-)
> 
> 2) Oscar Wilde knew what was up.


	11. Experience is one thing you can't get for nothing

Norma screamed, Norma cried, Norma clung to Alex as if both of their lives depended on her keeping her hands on him. She hugged him, held him, kissed him. "Alex, please don't die, please don't die, please stay with me, baby, you can't die, I need you. Alex, please, hang on for me, baby, please." He was unconscious, though. She knew he was alive because he had a good pulse.

"He's losing a lot of blood," the EMT informed her on the ride in the ambulance to the hospital. "We can save him, though. Easily. The shot wasn't fatal. I found the exit wound. There is no organ damage. We'll just patch him up, stop the bleeding. Your friend will be ok, ma'am."

The EMT had allowed Norma to ride in the ambulance because she was the only person acquainted with him on site; she was, in theory, able to give them answers as to what happened. Of course, Norma hardly pieced any of it together in her own mind. All she could do was hold Alex's hand, bring it to her lips, and beg him to stay alive.

Norma wasn't allowed near him at the hospital. She had to sit in the waiting room, sit and stand, sit and stand, fidget, pace, sit again, no back up and pace again... On and on it went for what seemed like forever. She kept asking the nurse at the nurse's station: "Can I see Alex Romero now?"

"No, ma'am, he's in ICU. Are you a relative?"

"No, but, I'm his friend."

"I understand, but he's in critical condition."

"What does that mean, 'critical condition'?"

"Well, unless you're a relative, I can't give too many details. All I can say, he's in critical, but stable condition."

"Well... Is he gonna be ok? Can you tell me that?"

"I can't tell you anything for certain."

Norma walked away in a huff. She sat down in the waiting area, as close as possible to the room where she knew Alex was languishing in "critical but stable" condition, whatever the hell that meant. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. Her breathing was shallow and just knowing she was bordering on another panic attack, and that the only person who could ever make her feel instantly calm was Alex himself made her sobbing and panic still worse.

"Norma Bates." A strange man sat down beside her. She blinked at the man through her tears. She didn't care to talk to him and she didn't have the energy to even really look at him.

"Who are you?" She asked, not really caring.

"I'm Marcus Young."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Well, I'm challenging Sheriff Romero in the upcoming election."

"Good luck with that."

The man smiled condescendingly. "I'm assuming you're a staunch, unchangeable Romero supporter."

"Yes, I am. Go away."

"I just came by to see how the Sheriff is doing. I think he's outlived he's usefulness as the Sheriff, but I don't want him to die."

"That's good of you. I appreciate it, thanks. Now go away."

"Well, Mrs. Bates, the thing is, I thought you might be interested to know that I know who shot your boyfriend."

Norma felt sick. Physically sick. She almost retorted that Alex was not her boyfriend, but stopped herself because it wasn't any of this man's business what Alex was to her. For the first time since he'd sat down beside her, she focused her concentration on him. The smugness in his eyes and indeed written all over his face made her want to vomit.

He seemed to sense something of her thoughts and it made him grin even more smugly. "Yes, I thought you might be interested to know that the bullet was intended for you. It was merely a message from Bob Paris to Sheriff Romero."

Norma felt lightheaded. "Bob Paris shot Alex? He wanted to kill me?"

"No, the intention was not to kill, neither you nor Sheriff Romero. Bob figured it was likely that Romero would act as human shield to protect you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Mrs. Bates, you need to be careful. Your boyfriend needs to be careful. And... I'd like to help both of you. I can protect you."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I will be the next Sheriff. That's a done deal. And I recognize the value of having you and Romero on my side."

"We're not on your side," Norma said coldly, standing up. "And we never will be. I don't know who you are or where you came from, but this is Alex's town. Alex is the Sheriff. You're just some creepy guy who thinks you can walk into town and intimidate people into voting against the incumbent. Don't you know that no one ever votes against the incumbent in an election like that for Sheriff, because most people don't even know anything about the Sheriff, if they even know who he or she is, and so they just vote for whoever is already in the office? But by all means, waste your time." She turned to leave, but suddenly turned back to say one more thing. "Just stop wasting mine and Alex's. We don't want or need you."

Norma didn't stick around to see the way Marcus looked at her as she walked away. It was with a bizarre mix of admiration, lust, and disgust.

******

Norma stood right at the door to Alex's room. She watched as doctors and nurses filtered in and out of the room to check vital signs and adjust the IV and levels of fluid being pumped into his veins. She stood there for so long, people with business at his bedside were increasingly inconvenienced by her position there. The nurse she had pestered before began to feel sorry for her.

"He means a lot to you, I can see that," the pudgy female nurse said to her finally.

Norma gazed at her stone-faced. She refused to give up anything.

The nurse sighed. "Look, it's after visiting hours, which end at nine, but if you're quiet and don't create any fuss, I suppose I can bend the rule a bit and let you wait at his bedside. I can even talk to the attending physician about it. She's a very reasonable lady."

Norma was grateful and wanted to kiss this woman, but she cautiously held back. "Thank you."

The nurse smiled kindly. "Sure. I like Sheriff Romero. We went to high school together and he's been a good guy to everyone I know. My mother especially..."

Norma could not have been less interested in the nurse's story about her mother or how Alex had been a 'good guy' to them. "I really appreciate it, thank you," she said as she practically ran into the room harboring Alex.

******

It wasn't long for Norma to realize that sitting in an uncomfortable chair waiting for Alex to wake up was a pretty shitty way to spend the night. She remembered how cute she had looked when their date began, too. True, she was still wearing her gorgeous black dress, but her makeup was completely wrecked. Her hair was a mess. She didn't want Alex waking up to the horrific sight of her smeared mascara and skin that was raw from tears. In the ladies room, she tried to fix up a bit. It wasn't much, but she was able to get her makeup off with the wipes she always kept in her purse. She also brushed her hair and wet her face. When she returned to Alex's room, she found Marcus Young standing there, pouring himself a glass of water.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "I thought I told you to leave us alone."

Marcus shook his head, overly-kindly at her. "Mrs. Bates. I think you would be wise to reconsider my offer. Bob Paris is not going to give up, but if I assure him that you and the sheriff are working for me, he might call the dogs off."

Something about this man really gave Norma the heebie jeebies. "What's your name again?"

"Marcus Young. Your next Sheriff."

Norma rolled her eyes. "You're not going to win the election. I don't care how much drug money you have funding your campaign."

"It's not just about money, Mrs. Bates. It's also about friendship. Your boyfriend no longer has the friends he used to, and his enemies are increasingly my friends."

"We'll think about it," came the voice Norma had been longing to hear. Alex was awake! Norma ran to him and threw herself onto him, hugging him so fiercely, he yelped from pain.

"Oh my god, Alex, I'm so sorry!" She had put too much pressure on the shoulder that bore the exit wound.

"It's all right, baby. Just don't do it again." He said it in a teasing voice, but she knew he was serious and she felt horrible that her first action since being aware of his being awake was to hurt him.

Their eyes feasted on each other. It was so easy to forget that a Marcus Young was in the room as well. Marcus Young? Who?

Marcus Young cleared his throat rather obnoxiously. Alex never looked at any human being with so much reluctance. How dare this upstart demand his attention away from Norma's beautiful face!

"We'll think about it, Marcus," Alex said in a bored voice.

"OK," agreed Marcus. "I'll return in the morning for your answer." (Exit Marcus, bye bye Marcus.)

Norma could hardly believe her ears. Why was Alex even entertaining this asshole? She decided, however, to shelve that discussion for now. After all, Alex had been shot and he looked cold. Norma hurriedly covered him up with as much blanket as there was.

"Norma, we're both in a lot of danger," Alex said, letting her fluff his pillows.

"Yeah, I figured that after you got shot. That jerk, whatever his name is, said Bob Paris had something to do with it."

"Marcus Young. And he was telling the truth. What else did he say to you? Did he threaten you?"

"No, he just said some bullshit about us needing his protection, that we should join his team because he can convince Bob to leave us alone. I told him we don't need him and we don't want him. Why did you tell him we'd think about it? That guy gives me the creeps, Alex."

Alex couldn't help it; he chuckled. Norma was something else. "I'm just buying us a little time, Norma. I don't have any intention of being on Marcus Young's team or anyone else's team but my own."

"Well, I don't have any intention of being on anyone else's team but yours either."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and he reached up with his non-injured side, picking up her fingers and playing with them while looking into her eyes. She looked back at him in wonder that any man, especially one with such a reputation as a tough guy, could be so gentle. His fingers slowly worked their way up her arm and he tugged at her, very gently but determinedly, to come closer. She let him pull her close to him, but there was some resistance from the tension in her arm. She felt exhilarated by the contact, but nervous and afraid at the same time. This moment felt to her like a point of no return. She had been so angry and defensive back at the Castle Rock, then he was shot and she realized how much he meant to her, how devastated she would be if she lost him before she ever even had him. This man was not like any other man she had ever known, whether she married them or dated them. That would be a good thing, logically, but it also made her afraid because it was so foreign: a man who was good, kind, honest, who honestly just wanted to protect her, without any kind of ultimatum or wanting her submission in return. Nothing scared this man. He knew the worst things about her, but still accepted her. He saw all the 'crazy' and all the 'chaos' swirling around her, and still he accepted it and even stood up to it like a warrior. It hit Norma in that moment, like a ton of bricks, that this man would always fight for her. He loved her, even if they weren't at a place yet where you could say the L word. In a way, really, they were past that point. They felt it, even if they weren't ready to say it yet. Even if in this moment they were only making their first kiss happen. Not on the cheek, but on the lips. Soft and slow and tender, at first, but quickly progressing to rougher and more desperate, wanting more and never having enough. She climbed up on the bed to lay beside him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and smiled down at him.

He was grinning like a boy on Christmas Day. "I'm thinking maybe I ought to be shot more often."

Norma became serious when she said, "Don't you dare, Sheriff. Don't you dare."

"What if I do dare, Mrs. Bates?"

"Alex, that scared the shit out of me. I thought I lost you."

He reached up to wipe away a tear that escaped her eyes. "Norma..."

"No, Alex, I mean it." She had to look away from him as the tears began a steady flow down her cheeks and she felt her breathing catch. "I was so angry with you, but you're right. You're right about everything and you've done more for me than anyone has ever done in my entire life. You're my best friend. You're the best friend I've ever had. If I lost you, I don't know."

"Hey, hey, come here." She leaned into him, her head on his chest, while he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly.

She forced a little laugh. "I'm sorry to be such a Debbie downer. I should be happy right now because I didn't lose you. You made it."

"We made it, baby," he said. "We made it and I think we're gonna be ok."

They fell asleep soon. Even knowing that in the morning they would have a lot to deal with, for now they felt a strange calmness and love...loving and being loved.


	12. It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This one is a very short chapter. I know that's disappointing as a reader. I just wanted to post this part and not mix it up with the next scene. Together, they just don't flow well and so separating them feels right, even if it means making a couple of short chapters.
> 
> 2) Title is a quote by Oscar Wilde, and FYI, Norman Bates is one of the charming.

While Norma and Alex lay on his hospital bed, Norman was home and confused, wondering where his mother was. He had been calling her obsessively for two hours, no answer, just voicemail. He left one voice message, but otherwise just kept ending the call in frustration. He also tried to call Dylan and it was the same thing. It was like his family was just off in outer space and he couldn't reach them anymore. He distracted himself with taxidermy and that seemed to be going well until he heard Mother's voice ("God, what is with you and those dead animals?) and Juno barking.

"I mean that dog is bad enough, but at least he's alive."

"What do you want, Mother?"

"I want you to start acting normal."

"I am normal. You're the one who keeps killing people."

Mother laughed, a dry, bitter laugh. "Keep telling yourself that."

"Where have you been?"

"That's none of your business."

"Out with Sheriff Romero, I suppose?"

"Would that bother you, Norman? Me and Alex?" Mother was not a concerned parent. Mother was different from Norma. She was derisive and cold and calculating. To Norma, Norman was everything. To Mother, Norman was nothing. But Norman couldn't tell the difference. Mother looked like his mother, smelled like his mother, felt like his mother, sounded like his mother.

"Would it? Would it bother you, me and Alex being lovers? Sharing a bed? Him doing things to me?"

Norman slammed his clenched fists on the worktable before him. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"What?" Mother asked, feigning innocence. "It's not like you haven't had sex before, Norman. You know what goes on. What a man does to a woman."

Between Mother's taunting and Juno's barking, Norman couldn't take it anymore. He ran out of the house. But Mother was everywhere. "You can't run from me, Norman."

He tried. He ran and ran and ran until he got to the bridge that went across the bay. That's when he saw Bradley Martin.


	13. An excellent man; he has no enemies; and none of his friends like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oscar Wilde was talking about Bernard Shaw when he said that. And Bernard wrote in a letter to actress Ellen Terry: "And that's quite true: they don't like me; but they are my friends, and some of them love me. If you value a man's regard, strive with him. As to liking, you like your newspaper, and despise it. I had rather you remembered one thing I said for three days than liked me...."

Alex woke up in the wee hours, Norma's hair splayed on his chest, her lips brushing his neck. _Am I in heaven?_ he wondered. _I died. That bullet killed me and now I'm in heaven and I never want to leave._

He had to leave, though. Because this wasn't heaven. This was the real world and Marcus Young existed, and it was Bob Paris behind it all, sending him a message that he was replaceable. Alex cursed out loud when he realized he didn't have his phone, or his wallet. Norma's purse was on the stand by the bed. He grabbed it and dug around in it, looking for her phone. He was surprised to find his own phone, keys and wallet in there. She must have taken them after he was shot. He wanted to kiss her for having the foresight to safeguard them before the hospital staff had a chance to lock them in a safe or something. She knew how he was about having his phone handy at all times. His phone was almost as essential as his gun to have on his body at all times. He called Deputy Jeffcoat and told him to have his SUV picked up at the Castle Rock.

"Already done, Sheriff. It's waiting for you at the station. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Alex said. "Can you bring it to the hospital?"

"I can do that, yes."

Jailhouse Rock. Ironic, that being the name of Bob's fishing boat. Apart from the Elvis Presley reference, Alex knew the name was more reflective of Bob's overall attitude of contempt and ridicule towards the law. Alex had known about it for about three years. He and his buddy Rick Hoggs had been 'shooting the shit' at the diner when Rick revealed that he had recently sold Bob his old fishing boat. Jailhouse Rock was going to be a great place to shoot Marcus Young in the head.

Marcus came promptly, as they had agreed on the phone. Alex appeared, startling Marcus, who had just climbed on board.

"What can I do for you, Sheriff?" Marcus asked in that contemptuous, cocky, overly-polite tone of his.

"Well, Marcus, first thing, you can drop your gun," Alex said, pointing his own gun at him. "Two fingers only, Marcus. Lift it out of your pocket, and don't try anything because I'll put three holes in your face before you can touch that pistol."

Marcus obeyed.

"So, Sheriff," began Marcus, breaking the silence and obviously trying to delay what both knew was about to happen. "Why the dramatics?"

Alex cocked a smirk on one half of his face. "Dramatics. Well, Marcus, you have a flare for dramatics, don't you? You like it. You get off on it. You come to the hospital where you know I'm laid up, after being shot, and you dare bother my friend with your bullshit?"

"Friend?" Marcus scoffed. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"For the extended olive branch. I want to try to help you, Romero."

"You don't want to help me. You want to own me. And maybe, if the circumstances were different, I might be open to cutting some kind of deal with you. But you made a big mistake involving Norma. See, when people mess with Norma it really pisses me off."

"Alex. You don't mind if I call you Alex, do you? I mean, you've been calling me Marcus."

"No, you can call me Alex."

"Great. So Alex. How 'bout we just call this whole thing off? I leave town. You keep your job."

Alex shook his head. "No. See, Marcus, you're not reliable. You could leave town, for awhile. But you can't change who you are."

"Well, I guess none of us can change who we are. We could pretend, you know pretend to be that person who does things for the right reason, based on whatever we've decided is right or wrong."

Alex was becoming impatient. He hated this guy. This Marcus Young with his fancy suit, wanting to be Sheriff so he could exploit the system as Alex's father had done.

"Right or wrong," Marcus continued. "I felt I was doing a service to this town in opposing you in the next election. White Pine Bay deserves a sheriff who puts the county first. And maybe you were once that guy, but you've stopped being him some time ago. Bob told me all about your dad, the former sheriff, how you hate his guts and are desperate not to be just like him, only to start acting exactly like him since, oh, about the time Norma Louise Bates came to town. About how, lately, it's all about protecting her and her crazy sons. It's all about what you want, and so be it if the Bates family are having deputies shot in front of their house and killing teachers and hiding flash drives. You know rumor has it that it was the older son, what's his name, Dylan, who killed Nick Ford and the Morgans, that he had killed Gil Turner too because he wanted his job, but you covered for him, because you wanted to get into his mom's pants."

It was those last five words ( _get into his mom's pants_ ) that pushed Alex over the edge. He shot Marcus three times in the throat and watched as the man gagged to death, on his own blood.

******

A few hours later, just before sunrise, a Bob Paris employee arrived at the Jailhouse Rock to get the boat ready for the boss. They found the corpse of Marcus Young on board with a note pinned to his chest:

_My name is Marcus Young and I officially withdraw my candidacy for Sheriff._


	14. One should always play fairly when one has the winning cards

Norma Bates was furious. She paced all around the hospital room, only stopping sometimes to reread the stupid note Alex had left her. Who did he think he was? Of more relevance, who did he think she was? Did he know her at all? Certainly not, if he thought she'd buy some BS like that. Got hungry and went to find food! Right! She knew damn well he went to confront either Bob Paris or Marcus Young. With an exit wound still healing in his shoulder! But no, that wasn't what bothered Norma. He didn't wait for her! He didn't tell her! He didn't bring her along! That is what hurt most of all. He left her out of it, even though she was very much part of it and deserved to be in the loop. He always asked her to trust him, almost demanded it, yet, it seemed now, he didn't reciprocate that trust. It wasn't seven in the morning, but still, an attending nurse had popped in a couple of times, looking for the patient, to check his vitals, and Norma had only to feel stupid and make up something like that he was in the restroom.

And then suddenly he just walked into the room and looked at Norma with those deep pools of brown, those puppy dog eyes. The sling holding his right arm didn't help him look less pitiful. And so she couldn't be angry anymore. The anger just fell away. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her into his embrace and rubbed her back.

She pulled back only slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes again. "I was so worried. Where did you go?"

He understood well enough that Norma would not have been convinced by his note. He had expected that. But the truth, that he went to shoot Marcus Young on Bob Paris's boat, just wasn't something that you wrote down.

"I was at the docks," he said.

"The docks?" She was taken aback. "How did you get there? Your car..."

"Jeffcoat picked it up for me." He walked further into the room, using that action to look away from her and steel himself for telling her what he'd done. "I went to meet Marcus Young."

"At the docks? Why?"

She stared at his back, imploring him to look at her, but he would not turn around.

"Well, Bob sent me a message last night, and I had to send him a reply."

Norma shivered. His tone. It was the 'sheriff tone.' It was the 'big daddy of White Pine Bay tone.' This was not her friend Alex, this was the man he first presented to her when she was new to town and the prime suspect in the death of Keith Summers. The 'Sheriff Bulldog' who scared her right into the clutches of Deputy Zack Shelby.

"Alex..."

"Norma." He finally turned to face her and the look in his eyes shocked her. Although the tone had been Sheriff Bulldog, the affect was all Alex. Her Alex.

"I don't wanna talk about it right now, baby. Can I just hold you?"

Her face softened and she looked ready and very willing to comply. But... No, she needed answers.

"Alex, what's going on?"

Alex sighed out of exasperation. "I shot Marcus. I killed him." He spoke in an undertone.

Norma stared at him disbelievingly. Her undertone matched his. "You killed him?"

He fell into her ready arms and wept. He hated himself for every tear that fell, but he was powerless to stop it.

"I had to let Bob know he can't just dangle this guy in front of me and threaten me. Threaten you."

"He didn't threaten me, Alex."

"He spoke to you. He looked at you."

"Alex, take me home."

He had been close to smiling, but it was gone now. "Take you home?"

"Yeah. I need to go home. To see my son."

"Oh. OK."

"Alex, this is crazy shit. Bob Paris almost having you killed, despite what he or anyone says about not intending to kill you. You killing Marcus Young. I'm a mother. I need to be sure my kids are safe."

Alex was already in motion, moving to the door. She followed him. It was a moment when words were unnecessary.

Unfortunately, for them, the medical staff attempted to stop Alex Romero and Norma Bates mid-course. Checkout procedures? Whatever. "We're leaving, I'm leaving," Sheriff Romero informed the stupid people. Norma loved it.

******

Alex wanted to stay with Norma, but wanting isn't capability and he still had a job to do, as Sheriff of White Pine Bay County. So he reluctantly watched Norma ascend the mammoth steps to her house. He waited until she was safely inside before driving away.

In the house, Norma found Dylan sitting alone, drinking coffee, and staring at a guitar on the coffee table. The sun poured in through the windows in a fantastic way, making the old house look especially elegant. Dylan looked up at his mother and forced a sad smile to his lips. He was so much like her sometimes. The way he forced smiles and desperately wanted everything to be ok, hoped for everything to be ok, even believed it to be ok when it was anything but. Like mother like son, so much alike and yet so different. There was a special bond between Norma and Norman, for sure, but then Norman brought something else to the table: his father. Dylan was one hundred percent Calhoun, the product of a brother and sister, and the truth is that no one shares more genetic material with you than your sibling, or the son by you and your sibling. Dylan really was a miracle, an impossible boy. He was perfect, of good heart and good mind and sound body, despite the tropes about the children of incestuous relations.

"What's that?" Norma asked, nodding at the guitar and stepping closer to her boy.

The bitterness inside him took over his face and voice as he said, "Caleb brought it by. He left it for me."

Norma was confused. "Left? Why?"

"Yeah, he's gone."

Norma shook her head, not surprised, but disappointed all the same. As much as she would never be friends with her brother/rapist/daddy-baby, she lamented the loss for Dylan. She recognized how positively it had impacted Dylan to be united with his biological father. She hated Caleb even more than ever, if that was possible, just from seeing how much his leaving was hurting Dylan now.

She placed a hand on his shoulder as she said, "People are generally disappointing, honey. They can't help it. You can't let it kill you."

"Yeah," Dylan said in a hollow voice. He felt too numb to really do anything else. "I just thought..." He shrugged. "After everything..."

Then something occurred to him and he looked at his mother curiously. "Where were you? You were gone all night."

"I was out with Alex and he got shot."

Dylan's eyes got wide. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He just dropped me off. I was in the hospital with him. I fell asleep there."

Dylan didn't know whether to be appalled or amused. "So you guys went on a date and he got shot?"

Norma tried to play it off lightly in order to avoid explaining the whole situation. "Hazards of dating a sheriff, I guess. So anyway, I'm gonna go check out this Pineview place."

"What's that?"

"It's a place where they can help people with mental issues. It's a bit of a drive so I'm just gonna refresh and head out."

******

Alex called into the Sheriff's department to say he was working in the field all day and would not be going into the office. He would also be working in plainclothes, he said. He went home and showered and got dressed in a suit and tie. He set out for the Arcanum Club to meet with Bob Paris. He had no you-know-whats to give as he barged into Bob's office, against the futile objections of the hot young receptionist.

"What the fuck, Bob?" he demanded as he punched his lifelong frenemy in the face.

Bob smiled despite the blood dripping from his nose.

"We had a deal, Bob. We made a deal. You promised to stop messing with Norma."

Bob rose from the chair behind his desk and strolled around it. He held that annoying complacent smile on his face. "Alex," he said in almost a sing-song way as he leaned on the desk and crossed his arms. "I need to know I can trust you. Marcus was easier to read, you see. Boring, but predictable. Always a yes man. You, on the other hand? Well, don't take offense, my friend, but you can be a real pain in the ass. Especially since that Norma Bates got into your head."

"You're a pain in the ass too, Bob, and not anymore predictable than I am. You say you're going to honor your deal with Norma and I see the hole you ordered to be dug in front of her house. It looks more like a bomb crater than a pool, Bob. Then you order your goons to do a drive by and shoot me?"

"You're still alive, which is more than we can say for Marcus. You wanna play another game of what's worse?"

"No, Bob, I'm done playing games with you. I'm done trying to make all this shit work. I'm about two seconds from telling the DEA everything I know. I mean, at this point, there are enough witnesses to corroborate the existence of the flash drive."

Bob Paris actually looked worried. "Alex... Look, let's try to work this out. You and I, we want the same thing? Right? Keep the peace? In the town you and I both grew up in?"

"Is that what you want, Bob? Peace? Really? Because, from where I'm standing, it looks like you want control."

"You never had a problem with the way I controlled things in this town before Norma Bates got under your skin."

******

Alex and Bob were at an impasse. The sheriff was making his way back to his SUV when his phone vibrated from the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Romero," he said in answer of the call.

"Sheriff, there's been a robbery at the house of Amelia Martin. You might want to come see this."


	15. Bad people are, from the point of view of art, fascinating studies. They represent colour, variety and strangeness. Good people exasperate one's reason; bad people stir one's imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agree, Oscar. Good people are boring. Villains are very sexy. And people in the grey area, like Alex Romero and Norma Bates, are the very sexiest.

Alex drove to the gated community where all of White Pine Bay's wealthiest people lived. Ironically, for all the chaos these people caused, their neighborhood was one of the sleepiest coves in the county. When car alarms activated in this place, no one took it seriously because it was always the car owner being a goofball. The houses had alarms too, naturally, but they never activated unless the maid forgot to enter the code or something. The petty criminals of White Pine Bay just didn't bother coming to this neck of the woods. It was too guarded, too watched, and too remote from the center of town to make it worth the risk. Anything that happened here was usually an inside problem: the children of the owners toilet papering the neighbor's yard, a boy trying to climb a roof to enter his girlfriend's bedroom, and triggering the alarm in the process. A squad of Sheriff's Department SUVs in the driveway of one of the mansions just wasn't the kind of thing people were used to seeing in this neighborhood. The last time it happened was the time Gil Turner, one of the residents here, was found shot to death in his house. The other residents chalked that up to the hazards of the drug business Turner was a major player in. Why would someone walk into the widowed Amelia Martin's house (no sign of a forced entry, clearly it was someone who had a key) and shatter every mirror and light fixture before taking all the jewelry and hidden cash? Naturally, the first suspects were the maid and the boyfriend of Amelia Martin. Alex interviewed both and believed both of them to be innocent. The maid was terrified and it was absolutely believable that this woman had no idea about the safe. Alex couldn't see this tiny middle-aged woman who spoke broken English in a Vietnamese accent taking a nine iron on a tirade through the house. Amelia's boyfriend was also not a likely suspect. He had an airtight alibi, easy to corroborate: he'd been out with Amelia herself in the time frame of the incident. He and Amelia had left the house early in the morning when everything was normal, came back a few hours later after having brunch in town, and found the house looking normal on the outside but like a war zone on the inside. Someone with a key to the house ("the key I always keep under the candle on the back porch is missing," said Amelia) and knowing the code to the alarm (never activated) had done this. Alex went over the details, repeatedly, in his head: No living children. Bradley, the daughter, had committed suicide months ago. Yet the person who had done this obviously knew the intimate details of the house, like where to find the cash and Rolex and other jewelry in the bedroom drawers. None of it made any sense. He sighed as he drove back to his house to change into his uniform. It was going to be an office day, after all.

The day dragged by agonizingly slow and produced no answers regarding the robbery. No matter how hard Alex endeavored to focus on the numerous, ultimately-dead-end leads (relatives of the Martins, friends, boyfriends of Bradley, anyone and everyone who had ever been in their house) all he wanted to think about was Norma. His mind kept returning to the memory of holding her in the hospital bed, kissing her... Night fell and he was tired and all he wanted to do was cuddle up with Norma and pretend none of this shit was happening. Before Norma, his analgesic of choice was a bottle of whiskey. Now, the analgesic was Norma herself, or just the thought of her.

He drove to the Bates motel and residence just in time to see Norma and Dylan running out of the house and down the steps. He climbed out of the SUV as Norma reached the bottom of the steps. She froze when she saw him. She looked terrified. Dylan looked confused and scared as well.

"Alex," said Norma breathlessly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping toward her.

She did that thing she always did when she was trying to hide the truth, that thing that infuriated Alex more than anything in this world. "Nothing," she said, forcing a smile. "We're all good here."

Alex glanced at Dylan. He forced a smile totally identical to his mother's. "Yeah, we're good."

Alex breathed deeply in order to control his temper. Norma and her sons.

The sound of gravel crunching under shoes returned as Norma moved to her car. "I'm sorry, Alex, but I don't have time to explain."

"My brother's missing," Dylan blurted while looking at Alex.

Norma spun around to glare her eldest. "Dylan!"

"I'm sorry, mom, but he might be able to help. We have no idea where Norman is. He could be anywhere."

Alex's mind was going a million miles an hour. "All right, all right, when was the last time you saw him?"

Norma looked frustrated, flustered, tearful, and anxious. "I don't know. Fifteen minutes ago? Can we at least be driving around looking for him while we talk? I'm terrified of what could be happening to him right now. He was acting crazy."

"All right," said Alex. "We'll take my car, though, get in."

******

"What do you mean, Bradley Martin's alive?" Alex demanded as they drove around aimlessly. He looked at Norma, who was in the passenger seat. "Did you know this?"

"No, I'm just finding out too. I thought she committed suicide."

"She faked it because she wanted to get out of town," Dylan explained from the backseat. "Norman and I helped her. I drove her to the bus station myself."

"Why?" asked Alex, his head spinning. Bradley Martin being alive changed every previous assumption he'd made about so many past events, not least the most recent one that occurred that very day. A faked suicide? Aided by Norma's sons! Norma's sons! Always one or both of her sons involved in every odd occurrence in town. If it wasn't Norman being weirdly close to his high school teacher, or Norman being at the top of the stairs on which Jimmy Brennan fell, it was Dylan Massett running into the road, ranting about Nick Ford being dead. Now, learning that both of them had helped a girl fake her suicide for only god knew what reason!

Dylan hesitated before saying, "She was upset about her dad."

"Right? And?" Alex didn't believe for a moment that her dad's death was the sole reason for Bradley wanting to fake her death and run away from home. A spoiled girl like that, not abused or neglected at home, didn't just run away to live on the streets simply because she was sad, even if her sadness was grief over losing a parent.

"And... that's it. She was really upset."

Alex almost laughed out loud at how lame Dylan sounded.

Norma spoke up next. "Look, can we just focus on finding Norman right now. We don't even know if Bradley is really alive. Norman does see things that aren't really there."

Alex was stunned by this new piece of information. "He does?"

Norma didn't necessarily like that she'd just admitted that to Alex, unthinkingly, but it was what it was and the damage was done. "Yes. When he blacks out. Sometimes he thinks he's talking to me but I'm not there. Tonight he kept saying that he spoke to me earlier, and I know it was one of his hallucinations because it didn't add up. He thought that I should have known about Bradley.

"OK." Alex made a decision. "I'm taking you both back to the house. I'm calling this in. Bradley Martin is suspected of being alive and she might be accompanied by Norman Bates. This morning, her mother's house was robbed, no forced entry, suspect being someone in or close to the family."

Norma was too stunned to speak, but Dylan's mind worked quickly. "You think maybe it was her, that she took money for her and Norman?"

"Yes." Alex used the police transmitter to put the word out to his deputies.

Norma was torn between fear that Norman would be found having murdered Bradley Martin and desperation to just find her son. The latter feeling won out. A part of her even hoped that the worse, the former, could happen, for even horrible as it would be, at least Norman would be alive. _Maybe fate wins here,_ she thought. She was just so tired of living in secrets and fear all the time.


	16. It is better to be beautiful than to be good. But... it is better to be good than to be ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Did you guys notice that Bradley Martin's license plate changes in the course of the last two episodes of season 3? When Norman first finds her at the bridge into town, it is JRH 47A7. Then it's NFB 418. It's a New York plate both times, and it's the same red 1970 Plymouth Valiant, but even the number of digits changes. Just a little mistake by the show that I noticed! I also just want to point out how much I love all the vintage references throughout the show, especially the 1970s: the 70s cars driven by Norma, Emma, and Bradley; and then there are things like Norman's suitcase and, obviously, Norma's wardrobe, and the house and motel itself. The show is set in modern times, with iPhones and shit, but there are so many retro symbols. All right. Back to the story... Oh wait one more thing I thought of: NFB in Bradley's second license plate, lol. I don't know if we ever learn Norman's middle name, or if his middle name is revealed in Robert Bloch's book, which I haven't read yet, but I wondered if NFB might be a clue to that. Norman F. Bates?

Descriptions of Bradley Martin and Norman Bates circulated quickly among the on-duty sheriff's deputies, but it was the lucky memory of Deputy Jeffcoat that provided the most important clue. He remembered seeing two teenagers, looking just about the right age, sitting on a red Plymouth Valient, circa 1970s, out by the bay earlier that day. He had driven by slowly because he was intrigued by the vintage car. Jeffcoat loved old cars and it wasn't everyday you saw one like that. He hadn't been close enough to the pair to decipher their features, but he could see they were probably upper teens, early 20s at the most. Jeffcoat had noted the out-of-state license plate and, just on a whim, ran a check on it back at the station. It was registered in the state of New York and had been reported stolen. So the Sheriff's Department, thanks to the whims of Deputy Jeffcoat, and his sharp knowledge of old cars, had a description of a car and two people not improbably the teens they were looking for.

Alex had a nervous feeling in his gut. Over the past couple of days, he had learned an awful lot about Norma's life, he worries and traumas. He had even taken on those fears himself. Worry about Norman was now Alex's worry too, and a forceful one, at the forefront of his mind. This wasn't anything like just another missing-person case. This was personal. He had left Norma and Dylan at their house, taking Dylan aside to implore him to do his best to make sure Norma didn't go off on her own in search of Norman. "I'm handling it, we've got the entire Sheriff's Department on this," he assured Dylan. "Just stay here, try to keep your mother calm, and don't do anything stupid."

"Keep her calm?" Dylan looked at him as if he must be joking. "You try keeping her calm over Norman."

"Just do it," Alex barked more harshly than he intended, but there was no time to be delicate.

Before Alex left their house, Norma took him aside. Their eyes stared at each other.

"Alex..." She wanted to say something badly. He saw regrets in her eyes.

"Yes?" He tried to keep his eyes kind and without judgement.

She seemed to lose the courage. "I'm sorry."

He managed a weak but sincere smile and nodded. "All right, Norma. I'm gonna go find Norman."

Alex was now driving on the highway, westbound, his mind torn between worry that Dylan and/or Norma, more likely Norma might do something stupid and worry that even if he and his deputies found Norman, it would be the worst and he'd have to bring Norma's son home in a body bag. He couldn't stand that thought and worse even than that was the succeeding thought that Norma would blame him.

The call came in, interrupting his thoughts, that a red Plymouth Valient had been found on the side of the old highway by a state trooper. The license plate matched. By the time Alex arrived at the scene, it was flooded with police cars and sheriff's deputy SUVs, an ambulance, and many flashing lights. A dead teenage girl had been found not far off from the vehicle, her head bashed in by a rock, and beside her lay a teenage boy, alive but unconscious, his hands covered in blood. Both were put on stretchers and Alex only slightly caught a glimpse of the boy, but he recognized Norman's lanky frame and features immediately. His heart sank as he dialed Norma's number.

"Norma, we found him. He's being taken to the hospital. I'll come get you." Hanging up, he turned to Jeffcoat. "Go to Amelia Martin, fill her in. We'll need a positive identification on the girl."

"Right, boss," said the deputy, stepping into action without so much as a flinch.

Alex's mind was in turmoil. He had the horrible feeling that, this time, he would not be able to protect Norma's beloved son from the law. It looked very bad for Norman, indeed. This wasn't like assaulting your abusive father with a blender to stop him from hurting your mother. This wasn't helping your mother hide her dead rapist. This was cold blood. And unlike Blaire Watson's death, Norman was physically all over the crime scene and there was no Kyle Miller to take the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I pick it up again, we'll be at the hospital. As we are now moving into season 4, I feel like we're starting a new phase together. Thanks to you all for joining me on this trip.


	17. I am not young enough to know everything

Time came to a screeching halt and when it picked up again, shortly, it was like being in a new dimension where everything happened in slow motion and everyone was having an out of body experience, watching themselves move around, dejected and confused. Everything was upside-down. Alex felt powerless. Norma had absolute clarity and self-awareness. Dylan couldn't stop talking. "Bradley killed Gil Turner," he told Alex as the two men sat alone in an otherwise empty corner of the waiting room at the hospital. Norma was in Norman's room; he had just opened his eyes and was confused, suffering the usual memory loss consequent to his blackouts; a uniformed policeman stood guard outside his room, not a Sheriff's Deputy, but rather one of the men in blue.

"She killed him in revenge for her father," Dylan continued to Alex. "Norman took her back to the house, let her sleep in the basement. I was the only other person who knew and I helped her. I drove her to the bus station so she could get out of town. We wrote a note to make it look like she committed suicide. I thought it was done. She was gone. Everything went crazy, though, because of course Gil's death meant a drug war. Everyone assumed it was the other family who did it. You know what happened after that."

"Yes." Alex nodded.

Chaos. Chaos came to White Pine Bay in the form of Hurricane Bates and took no prisoners. The citizens of White Pine Bay were not innocents, but there had been a calm before the storm. A way of life. An understanding.

It wasn't entirely fair to blame it on Norma or Norman, although that was Dylan's default position. Were Norma and Norman drawn to chaos or did it find them? What comes first, the chicken or the egg? Either way, the result is the same. Lives are broken.

******

"I'm sorry I pushed you, Mother," Norman said.

"It's ok, Norman. Do you remember anything after that?"

"Not really. It's all fuzzy. I remember my hands and feet being tied. Not very well. I got free easily, but after that everything is black."

"I'm sorry, Norman. I didn't want to do it. I was afraid for you to go out and put yourself in danger. The state you were in... I was so scared. I didn't know whatelse to do."

"I understand."

Norma had not told him anything about what happened, about where he was found, about Bradley being dead. She wanted to keep him calm for now. That was important if she was to be successful. She had to make him feel safe.

"I'm going to check with the nurses, see when we might leave, ok?"

Norman smiled. "Thanks, Mother. I'd like to go home."

Her heart broke. "I know, Norman. I'll be back in a few minutes."

******

"Dylan? I need to talk to you. Alone."

Dylan looked up at his mother from where he sat, next to Alex. "Ok, Norma."

Alex had work to do anyway. There was the autopsy request to file. Amelia Martin had come to the morgue to confirm the girl was indeed her daughter. Alex still had to talk to her. He didn't want to leave Norma's side, but he contented himself with a brief hug, which she gratefully accepted.

When finally alone with Dylan, Norma got right to the point. "You know I visited that place today. The place that might help Norman."

"Right."

"Well, they said if he doesn't go voluntarily, two family members can sign for him to be admitted."

"Against his will?"

"Dylan, this is serious."

"I know, Norma, but..."

"We have to do something. I'm not always going to be around to protect him. And even if I was, I can't stop things like this happening. It's getting worse, Dylan."

Dylan agreed, and they both decided to call Pineview and have them fax over the form to admit Norman. But Norma still had a big problem: how to pay for it, even the down payment, without insurance.

Of course, that was the least of the problems in their immediate situation. The DA was already preparing to file charges against Norman. They had DNA and blood, plus a murder weapon (the rock.) There was no taking Norman home. He'd have to spend the night in custody at the White Pine Bay Sheriff's Department. In the morning, a judge could set bail.

Before Norma could even think about how to get insurance, she had to find a lawyer because she was damned if she was going to put her son's fate in the hands of an overworked, underpaid public defender.

Norman was transferred to the the WPBSD. He was brought to an interrogation room. Alex recused himself from the interrogation. He knew he couldn't remain objective and he didn't want to bother trying. He would either end up saving or killing Norman, torn as he was between the desire to protect Norma's son and the desire to kill him for putting Norma through this shit. He found Norma outside the interrogation room, on the other side of the one-sided glass that prevented Norman from knowing his mother could presently see him, but she was on her iPhone. She saw Alex and smiled, a genuine smile forcing itself through a lot of sadness, but her eyes spoke of all the pain accumulated there.

"Thanks, John," she said into the phone. "I really... I don't know... I can't thank you enough and I'm so sorry for... for everything."

Alex had no idea who John could be. He was glad when she ended the call soon and he could talk to her. He sat down next to her, but stayed an arm's length away, unsure of where they stood in their relationship given all the things going on. It was hot and cold with her sometimes. One step forward could be undercut in a moment by two steps backward.

"Hi, Alex."

"Hi, Norma."

"That was John. My first husband. Dylan's... Well, the man who gave Dylan his name. He's a lawyer now. He's agreed to represent Norman."

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah."

Neither knew what to say or could even look at the other.

"I recused myself from the case," Alex said, watching Deputy Jeffcoat enter the interrogation room and sit across from Norman. "Jeffcoat. He's in charge now."

"Why did you recuse yourself?" Norma asked.

Alex hesitated. He swallowed and took a deep breath to steel himself for looking at her. "My personal feelings. I'm... Norma..." He moved closer to her on the bench they sat on. "I'm..." Their faces were merely inches apart now. Their eyes kept moving down to look at the other's lips. Up and down, from eyes to lips and lips to eyes and so on it went for what seemed like an ice age.

"Yes, Alex?"

"I'm in love with you."


	18. RECAP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This feels like a good time to do a recap. I posted this some days ago on FF. I'm sorry for the frustrating end to the last chapter! I'm going to try my best to make it up to you in the next installment, though I can't promise that the angst won't intensify. There'll be resolution in some ways, but with these two, there will always be more angst. They are so stubborn and take themselves so damn seriously.

* Alex and Norma have their meeting with Bob Paris, as seen in the Season 3 episode 5, "The Deal."

* Alex left work one night intending to go buy frozen dinners, but instead, he drove to Norma's house. He saw her running out with a suitcase, being chased by her sons, who had just told her about her brother still being in town, staying at Dylan's farm, and wanting to speak to her.

* Norma tells Alex she'd like to go to Hawaii, so he takes her to a Hawaiian-themed restaurant on the outskirts of town, on the beach. :)

* Norma opens up to Alex regarding her fears about Norman (the alcohol, maybe, but also she's just feeling more comfortable with him)

* While Norma is out with Alex, Dylan is struggling to deal with Norman's emotional outburst in the wake of Norma's exodus. Emma comes over and offers to sleepover and help deal with Norman. Norman has a blackout. Dylan wakes up after midnight to find Norman cooking pancakes in the kitchen, wearing Norma's robe, and acting like he thinks he is Norma herself.

* Meanwhile, Norma confides in Alex about Norman's blackouts. Alex takes her to his house so they can talk in private. They sit on his couch and talk about the murder of Blaire Watson. Alex has already begun to doubt the accuracy of the polygraph test. He is careful how he talks about it with Norma and continues to put her at ease. They end up falling asleep, entwined on the sofa.

* Norma wakes up before Alex and reflects on the events of the night. She also reflects on how much she has come to trust Alex and, in short, it occurs to her that no man has ever treated her as kindly and respectfully as he does- always telling her the truth and never being presumptuous or imposing.

* Alex drives her back to the Bates motel/residence, in her car, since it was her car they took the night before and he had left his SUV there. He enters the house with her because he is carrying her suitcase. They are amused to find the boys in her bed, soundly sleeping and even Dylan's arm draped over Norman's chest. However, the tension returns as soon as she shouts, waking them up, and starts ordering them to go with her to Dylan's farm so she can confront Caleb and "rib the bandaid off," which had been Alex's exact words of advice the night before. The boys don't want to do it, but Norma won't take no for an answer and she ends up blurting out the fact that Caleb raped her, in front of Alex. (She doesn't seem aware of it, though, being one-track-minded in the moment and hellbent on getting herself to the farm.)

* Alex goes home to shower and change, and then he goes to talk to Bob Paris. He makes a deal with Bob Paris- the flash drive, which he retrieves from under the bricks in front of his fireplace, in exchange for Bob honoring Norma's blackmail demands but otherwise leaving her alone. Also entailed, Alex's loyalty to Bob.

* Alex goes to Norma's house to talk to her but she's in the middle of cooking for her, Dylan, Norman, and for Emma. Norma invites him to join them all for dinner. There is a little flirtation between them around interruptions, first by Norman and then by Caleb, who Norma ends up inviting to join them all dinner. Alex admits to Norma that he heard what she had said earlier about Caleb being her rapist. She is ashamed, but he assures her with smiles and kindness, and even that he thinks of her as the bravest person that he's ever met. After dinner, he helps her with the dishes and there is more flirting, interrupted by Norma's alarm over Norman's whereabouts, and even a near-kiss, interrupted by Dylan returning to the house from depositing Emma at her house.

* After a hectic day of closing murder cases dishonestly for the convenience of Bob Paris, Alex, in a bad mood, drives to Norma's house and finds her marveling over a gigantic pit being dug, on Bob's orders, for her swimming pool. He shoves down his concerns at the deepness of the hole in order to wallow in the warmth of her sunnier attitude. He asks her out for a real date and she accepts.

* A little bit too much wine on her date with Alex (at the Castle Rock Resort) leads to Norma confessing even more about her worries about Norman. She admits to Alex that Norman killed his own father. A panic attack follows and Alex springs into action to calm her down as only, it seems, he can. But for all the comfort of Alex feeding her soup, and even in spite of the sheriff cuddles, her worst fears take over as she recalls all the horror of what-if-Norman-goes-to-jail-for-protecting-me-and-maybe-killing-Miss-Watson. Alex and Norma do a little dance of hot and cold (as only they can) before Norma runs out of the hotel, Alex hard on her heels. ("Hard on her heels," meaning "following her closely!" Reader, try to keep your mind out of the gutter!)

* Alex is shot in the parking lot. Faced with the real prospect of losing him forever, Norma is immediately sorry for everything, for doubting him, not trusting him, and for pushing him away. She defends him and stands up to Marcus Young, who makes an obnoxious appearance at the hospital. Then, when Alex wakes up, she rushes into his arms and they do some making out and eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

* Meanwhile at the Bates house... Norman is doing taxidermy and trying to block out hallucinations of "Mother." Failing that, he runs out of the house, desperate to escape Mother's taunting words. He sees Bradley Martin at the bridge into town.

* Alex wakes up. Norma is still asleep. His deputies bring his car back from the Castle Rock Resort. He dresses himself and sneaks out, leaving a note, with a little white lie of an alibi, in case Norma wakes up. He goes to the boat owned by Bob Paris where he has already arranged to meet Marcus Young. He shoots the man and leaves his corpse on the boat for Bob to find, with a smart aleck note pinned to his chest, saying that he, Marcus Young, officially rescinded his candidacy for Sheriff.

* Back at the hospital, Norma is mad about the note but as soon as she sees Alex, her relief conquers her anger. He is fully truthful about what he did and he wants to be affectionate with her. However, with everything going on, her first concern is the safety of her sons. He checks out against medical advice and takes her home.

* She finds Dylan upset about Caleb's sudden abandonment of the son he just recently learned he had. She gives him a short but heartfelt pep talk about just accepting that most people are jerks (paraphrasing) and then the conversation turns to what Norma was up to the night before. "Oh, I just went out on a date with Alex and he got shot..." More paraphrasing. Norma tells Dylan that she's going to leave soon, to go check out a place called Pineview Institute, which she thinks might be able to help Norman.

* Alex goes to see Bob Paris and the two men accomplish absolutely nothing as to their impasse.

* Alex is called to the scene of the burglary at the residence of Amelia Martin. No sign of forced entry, just a ton of damage inside the house and the missing cash and jewelry that had been hidden in sock drawers.

* After work, Alex drives to the Bates house because he needs his analgesic of choice, Norma Bates. Sadly, he finds her and Dylan running down the steps. Well, to make a weird scene less incomprehensible, it all comes out (basically, Norman is missing and they are desperate to find him before they find him in some horrible situation) and so they all pile in Alex's SUV to go search for Norman and fill Alex in on the latest drama...

* oh hell chapters 16 and 17 are not that long... A recap would be longer than just a re-read, combined even.


	19. And so the more things change the more they remain the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title quote for this chapter is a quote from Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr. All other title quotes in this story are by Oscar Wilde. But just so Oscar isn't forgotten, here's one by him anyway: "Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship."

How do you respond to such a spontaneous and determined expression of love by such a man in such a situation? The short answer is, you don't really. You can't. It takes your breath away. Standing there in a police station, with your disturbed (at best, sociopathic, at worst outright psychopathic) son on the other side of one-sided mirror glass, being questioned about ... ? Being found covered in the blood of the girl beside him, her head bashed in with a massive rock... ! Jesus Christ.

Now Alex. Stoic, I'm-Alive-Because-I-Know-How-to-Keep-My-Mouth-Shut Alex looking at her with puppy dog eyes. Eyes begging her own eyes to love him back. Because somehow, neither understands it, she makes the wall he thought was so impregnable break down. Rubbish wall. He should have known he was in trouble when she climbed over that wall around the Arcanum Club. In a dress and wearing heels, no less. It was like Marilyn Monroe decided to go on Nancy Drew and still somehow look sexy and gorgeous as ever, like the train-breeze from the subway grate only exaggerated how lovely Marilyn's legs were without messing up a single hair on her head. Well, that's Hollywood for you. But Norma Bates was real. Right? A real pain in his ass, sure.

"Alex," she finally breathed. "What..." She couldn't look at him any longer. She couldn't take the feeling of those eyes consuming her. She stepped past him. "I can't do this right now."

He felt terrible. "I know. I'm sorry." Stupid man, he thought. Why couldn't he just know how to romance a woman? All he'd ever known with females could be described as, maybe, lust or infatuation, but nothing like this. He didn't know what to do with the feeling of really wanting to belong to someone. Even the sister of the fellow Marine whom he had married because, well, isn't that what you're supposed to do...? He recalled giving his mother a sense of superficial happiness at the idea that his marriage to Allison might soon produce a grandchild. But there was no real affection between the mother-and-daughter-in-law. Allison lacked the wisdom that only comes with age and probably would never have the temperament to be sympathetic with the depressive and suicidal Mrs. Romero. She certainly lacked any desire to become a mother. Allison just wanted to have a man to take to parties, and sometimes host a barbecue with, and work part-time, and then drink and play games with friends on the weekend, and like never have problems and shit.

"Dylan said John's a really good lawyer now." Norma's words took him back to the present. "I didn't even know they were still in touch. Anyway, he said we need to get a doctor's evaluation."

Alex knew what that meant. John Massett was already planning to plea insanity. "Listen, Norma, don't worry about what I said."

"Alex, it's not that I don't appreciate it. It's just that I can't deal with it right now. It's too much."

He nodded. "I know. I get it. That's why I don't want you to worry about it. I was wrong to say that right now. I just wanted you to know that I'm here. I with you for this."

She looked at him. She could look at his eyes, but she couldn't form words. If she loved him less, she might have been able to talk about it more.

He stepped towards her. "I'm Alex here, I'm not the sheriff, and it scares me because I can't control it. I can't protect you in that way."

He felt threatened by the pending arrival of her ex-husband, who was actually in a powerful position to influence the turn of events and possibly 'save the day.' It worried him that John might be unmarried and might even be still in love with Norma, or wanting her back. He wondered if they had even been in love back them. These feelings filled him with shame and self-disgust because it made him so childish. Norma might be about to lose her son to a prison or psychiatric ward and all he, Alex, could think was, Does her ex still have the hots for her and might she like him better?

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose! People talk about being "grown up" or "growing up" but somehow, the older we get, the less we feel we have anything figured out. It truly is like Oscar Wilde ironically said: I'm not young enough to know everything.

Norma had a few things that she was itching to say just then, each lacking clarity and full of contradiction. The woman wanted Alex. The mother wanted him to be the sheriff, in a way, but not really. The sheriff had power, but when she thought about it, it wasn't the power he wielded that made her feel safe. Safety doesn't come from power. Safety comes from surety, intimacy, constancy. It comes from knowing who and what you can count on. It comes from knowing yourself, from knowing your strength, and yes your weakness too. When Norma had watched Alex drive away from the motel, the day he told her his new house was ready, she watched him realizing for the first time how much it meant to her to have him on her side. When he was shot, she realized how devastated it would be to lose that. And now she realized how badly she wanted and needed him. She realized how different this felt from any of her past relationships. It was completely new. There was nothing familiar about wanting to lose herself in the depths of those brown pools on his face. The distance between them closed to nothing without either of them noticing that their feet had moved. Their bodies fell together and molded as if becoming one. She pulled away only slightly, just enough to look at him and take in his loving expression.

"Alex, thank you. And... I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a hidden Jane Austen quote here. Clue: It's something Norma feels, that Mr. Knightley says to Emma. See if you can find it.


	20. Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles are quotes from Oscar Wilde.... This one is from "The Relation of Dress to Art," published in the Pall Mall Gazette, 28 February 1885.

When Dylan Massett was down on his luck, unemployed, with nothing to his name except a rundown motorcycle, and unable to reach his mother, he had tracked down the man he then thought was his father. He found John Massett living outside San Francisco, successful in his career as a defense attorney, not married, and father of no one but, Dylan thought, himself. "Dylan," John had addressed, not unkindly, but with amazement. "It's good to see you. It's been... Lord, how long has it been? How old are you?"

They had drinks in John's house in Berkeley. John had been disappointed by his marriage with Norma. He had married her under the pretense of becoming parents together and he had been excited about it, despite being a teenager terrified about their prospects. Each year of Dylan's early life passed with more confirmation of John's worst fear, that it was all based on a lie, Norma's lie to get him to marry her and save her from her nightmarish parental dependence. He became distant with her and entirely consumed by the job he worked to support them and pay for his classes at the local community college. She worked too and became distant in revenge and things might have continued that way for years to come (together but separate, married for convenience only) but for one Samuel Bates.

John was not a cruel man. He was the kind of guy who did right by his high school girlfriend and married her when he thought she was carrying his child. But infidelity was a bridge too far. Maybe a part of him could forgive Norma for lying to him to get out of her parents' horrible house, but he wasn't going to be cuckolded. Looking back, he wondered if the reason he stayed with her as long as he did was from some hope that she might eventually tell him the truth (about Dylan) and then they could try to right the wrong somehow, being honest with each other going forward. With her grown-up son sitting before him, calling him Dad, he found himself regretting his own resentment. He could have been a bigger person, stayed with Norma and never become distant with her. They could be married today and he'd have this nice-looking man, with his mother's kind eyes, to call his son. John felt that he liked Dylan. He might have even liked to raise the boy and call him his own son. After Norma, he did not marry again, though he came close once. Finding his fiancee in bed with his best friend had been a nasty shock and, as it was the second time for him to be cheated on, it left a permanent bitter taste in his mouth to even think of marriage to anyone ever again. Unlucky in love, that was John Massett. In his career, at least, he could be the winner.

Dylan was angry with him. Disappointed. John could only offer lame apologies and promise to be a friend to him now. He offered Dylan a job at his law firm, something benign like filing papers just to get him on his feet, but Dylan laughed at the idea of wearing a suit to work. Instead, John helped Dylan locate his mother and the boy set out again, John telling him to get in touch anytime he needed anything.

The call came. Dylan's brother. The son of Sam Bates. Norman. John had to laugh at Norma naming her son after her. It was something Norma, the Norma he remembered, would have done. Other than that, there was nothing to laugh about. It made him slightly sick to feel that he was going to represent the murderous spawn of Sam Bates.

He would be. There was no question of that. John was going to help Norma now. He was going to do it for both Dylan and Norma. He wanted to help them. The sins of the past were just that, they lay in the past. Norma and Dylan were good people. Norma had been the first love of his life. He had loved her. He had failed her too.

He flew into Portland, where Dylan met him.

"You didn't have to meet me," he told the kid on the drive to the hotel John had picked for its location between Portland and White Pine Bay.

"No, it's nothing," said Dylan. "I was visiting... a friend. She's in the hospital."

"Oh I'm sorry. Serious?"

"Yeah, but she's doing well. Really good actually. She had to have a ... transplant. She's doing... really good."

"That's great. I'm glad to hear it." John saw the signs of young love, but he didn't want to pry. He and Dylan liked each other, but things were awkward between them. In San Francisco, Dylan uncomfortably called him Dad, and John didn't mind it. In fact, when he first saw Dylan at the airport and Dylan greeted him as John, there was a pang of regret in not hearing himself referred to as a father. In his foolish youth, John balked at being a father to another man's child. Now, he felt he'd be lucky to be Dylan's father.

Dylan filled him in about Norman. Details which John couldn't learn from police reports and court filings. "Mom's trying to get him into Pineview. It's a place a little up the coast..."

"Oh I know about Pineview," said John. "They are one of the best institutions in the country for severe mental illness. But very difficult to get into. The waiting list is huge and it's very expensive."

"Yeah, I know," said Dylan. "But Norma, she's... determined. She doesn't want him in the county ward."

"No one wants their kid to be relegated to the county facilities," said John grimly. "They're crowded, underfunded, and full of disillusioned, overworked and burned out staff."

"I'm worried about Norman," confessed the younger man.

"I'm not going to lie to you, kid," said John. "It doesn't look good for him."

The sun was setting as Dylan dropped John off at the Castle Rock Resort. John settled into his suite and tried not to overthink about the meeting with Norma in the morning. It would be the first time seeing her in close to 20 years. He'd spoken to her on the phone, but seeing her was going to be on a whole other level of surreal.


	21. Sooner or later we have all to pay for what we do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote from the play *An Ideal Husband*, by Oscar Wilde (words ascribed to the role of Mrs Cheveley)

The day of Norman's bail hearing was also to be John Massett's debut in the town of White Pine Bay. Dylan picked John up so the two could go together to meet Norma at the Sheriff's Department.

"How did you sleep?" Dylan asked as they drove?

"Uh, all right, I guess."

"You?"

"Not at all. I don't think this is gonna go well. You think the judge will grant bail?"

John nodded. "Unless the judge suspects Norman to be a flight risk, it's likely. The fact that he was running away when he was found... That could work against us. But I plan to argue that he would be released into the care of you and your mother, who are responsible members of the community and who love Norman and can be counted on to keep him safe."

"I don't really live there much anymore," Dylan admitted.

"Well, you're going to now. It's critical to show the judge that Norman has a support system."

Dylan was conflicted. He wanted very much to help Norman, but he also had a girlfriend recovering from lung transplant surgery in Portland and she was preparing to move to Seattle, and he hoped to go with her. He wondered how much this trial might interfere with his and Emma's happiness. He felt selfish for even having a thought like that.

******

"Baby, come here."

Alex watched Norma pace around his office. He wanted her to stop pacing and let him hold her.

"Alex, I can't. I can't do this. My son Dylan is off picking up my ex-husband, who is on his way to bail out my other son, who is accused of murder. How am I supposed to just not be freaking out right now?"

"Oh by the way," said Alex, turning to his desk. Taking a seat and leaning back, he continued: "Amelia Martin. She'll be at the hearing."

Norma stopped pacing and stared at him. "How do you know?"

Alex shrugged. "She told me. She said she wants to look her daughter's killer in the eye."

Norma started fuming. "She better stay away from Norman. He does not need this right now. He's very fragile."

"Well, Norma, I mean, try to look at it from her perspective..."

Right away, he knew he'd made a terrible mistake by saying that. He looked away from her glare and exhaled. "Sorry, Norma, I didn't mean... I just meant..." He returned his eyes to her face. "She lost her daughter, Norma."

Norma's expression softened. "I know. It's awful. But Norman is still here, and he's my son, and I have to help him because lord knows I've been a crappy mother up to this point."

"Hey hey," Alex said, rising to his feet and rushing to her. He put his hands on her arms and rubbed them gently. "Listen to me. You're a great mother. This isn't your fault. Norman has an illness. Just because it's mental rather than physical doesn't mean it's not real. It just makes it harder for us to understand and know how to treat, but that doesn't mean we can't help him. We will get him the help he needs."

Norma sighed. "Yeah. He needs to be at Pineview. Not rotting in a cell right now. He's probably so scared, not knowing where I am or that I'm out here fighting for him."

He pulled her into his arms and held her until the phone on his desk made a noise. Reluctantly, he pressed a button on the phone. "Yes?"

"Sheriff," came Regina the receptionist's voice. "A Dr. Schuster is here to see you. From the county psych ward. Regarding Norman Bates."

Alex gave Norma a look. Norma looked ready to crawl out of her skin.

"Regina, Deputy Jeffcoat is in charge of that case."

"Yes, sir, I told her that. She still wants to speak with you."

Alex sighed. "OK. Let her in."

"What the hell, Alex?" Norma breathed. "County psych ward?"

"Norma, it's all right. The DA will have put this in motion to have a full psychiatric evaluation of Norman. It's standard procedure. This doesn't mean they're gonna haul him off in a strait jacket." He only said that because he knew how active and extreme her imaginative fears about Norman could be. Unfortunately, it didn't help Norma at all; on the contrary, having never pictured her son in a strait jacket before, it was now all she could see in her mind and her breathing became extremely labored.

"Right," she said between deliberate breaths. "That's not gonna happen. They're gonna evaluate him and we can use that to get him into Pineview. If we can figure out how to pay for it." She shook her head, feeling stupid and doing her little smile/almost-laugh to cover for it. "If I can figure out how to pay for it."

******

Norma stepped outside for some fresh air and wait for Dylan and John while Alex spoke with Dr. Schuster in his office.

"Sheriff Romero," the confident and professional psychiatrist addressed him as she stepped through the door. "Hello, I'm Doctor Ellie Schuster, from the county psychiatric center."

"Hello," said Alex. "You do understand that I recused myself from the case, and that Deputy Jeffcoat is in charge of everything relating to the death of Bradley Martin?"

"I do, yes. However, Deputy Jeffcoat is not in his office at the moment and I understand that you have been involved in prior cases involving the prime suspect, Norman Bates?"

Alex leaned back in his chair and looked at her without any expression, just expectantly. He was trying to figure out her agenda.

"Right," she said, opening one of the files she had removed from her briefcase. "I see here that Norman Bates was taken into custody for questioning over the death, concluded to be an accident, of one James Brennan."

"True," agreed Alex. He wasn't going to offer any information or make anything easy for this woman.

"Yes, well, it says Mr. Brennan fell down the stairs at his home after an altercation with his daughter, Cody, and her friend, Norman Bates. I'm curious as to how Norman Bates was involved?"

"Maybe you should try asking him?" suggested Alex.

"Oh, I fully intend to, Sheriff. Any details on a prior arrest is relevant to my evaluation."

"Norman Bates was not arrested," Alex corrected her. "He was brought in for questioning, as was Cody Brennan, because they were eyewitnesses. That is all."

Dr. Schuster looked slightly taken aback. "But Norman Bates was fingerprinted and I see here that Deputy Lin collected a DNA swab."

Alex flinched. Deputy Lin's overzealousness irritated him to no end. It was because of that DNA swab that Norman was found to be the second match for the semen sample found in the autopsy of Blaire Watson. He recalled resentfully how Deputy Lin had treated Norman as though he was guilty of pushing Jimmy Brennan to his death.

"Norman Bates was not arrested. Nor was he a suspect in the case. We were merely looking for answers from the two eyewitnesses."

"I see," said the doctor, putting the file back in her briefcase. "Well, thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate you talking to me."

"Of course. Anytime," he lied, watching her leave and determining right then and there that swift action was needed to ensure Norman's place at Pineview.


	22. There has been no material improvement that has not spiritualized the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title = a quote from a dialogue, between "Gilbert" and "Ernest," by Oscar Wilde, "The Critic as Artist," published in a book of essays, Intentions, 1891

"There's Norma," Dylan said, a smirk spreading across his face. Not exactly humorous, but a little bit humorous. Dylan knew too well that the situation was no laughing matter. "Waiting for us. She's a little anxious."

"Understandable," said John. "Listen, Dylan, after... after we're done with all this, do you think we can..." John hesitated. He watched Dylan put the big truck in park and turn off the ignition.

Dylan looked up at him, waiting.

John continued: "Maybe we can do lunch, or dinner, something. Talk?"

"Yeah, ok," Dylan shrugged. "Sure. That'd be cool."

As they stepped closer to Norma, standing in front of the Sheriff's Department building, looking pretty in a pink skirt suit, John struggled to maintain his best lawyerly presence. It was hard. Norma nearly took his breath away. Just as they were greeting each other and shaking hands, the doors burst open and Alex came striding toward them. Alex exchanged hello's with Dylan and then he began to study the man he knew was John Massett.

"It's great to see you, Norma," John was saying. "I mean, obviously I wish it was under better circumstances."

Norma smiled sadly. "I know. It is good to see you, John. I'm glad to see you're doing so well. And I'm just so grateful for what you're doing for us."

"Don't mention it," said John firmly. "I consider you family." He looked at Dylan and smiled, then back at Norma. He flashed her a devilish grin. "And, I'm sort of behind on my pro bono hours..."

Alex moved his hand to hover just over the small of her back. She felt his presence palpably and started a little. "Oh, John, this is Alex. Um. Sheriff Romero."

John turned his focus with great interest to Alex. "Sheriff Romero, of course!" The two men shook hands. "Good to meet you. John Massett."

"Yeah, I know," said Alex. "Nice to meet you, John. Call me Alex."

Alex was quick to note the absence of a wedding ring on the man. He also watched him closely (trying to be discreet) as they walked inside, noting John's rapt attention too Norma. It was John who held the door open, first for Norma, and then sort hanging back to let everyone else through.

Norman was dealing with his incarceration the only way he knew how to deal with any trauma, by having "Mother" take over. It was lucky for him that his real mother had secured legal counsel so quickly and that the deputy had been stopped from interrogating him until that legal counsel could be present. When John Massett came face to face with Norman and introduced himself, "Mother" smiled knowingly. "John. How lovely. Does Dylan know you're in town?"

"Yes," John said, a little put off by Norman's effeminate body language. He had never met Norman, so for all he knew, this could be normal.

"Excellent," said Mother, smile growing wider and more smug. 'She' brushed some invisible hair from 'her' face. "Have you also seen Caleb?"

"Uh, no, I haven't. So Norman, I don't know if you're aware of it or not, but I've agreed to be your legal counsel. Your mother and Dylan contacted me and I'd like to help. Is that ok with you?"

"Norman is not here. It's just us, John."

John swallowed. He didn't know much beyond a little bit mentioned by Dylan about Norman having blackouts, hallucinations and episodes where he either pretended or actually believed he was Norma. He hadn't questioned it or delved too far into yet. He had not had the chance to and, besides, he intended to leave that for the psychiatrist to analyze. It's wasn't John's expertise. He realized now that he would have to be a bit more hands on than he wished to be.

"Where is Norman?" he asked.

"Norman's sleeping. Norman has messed everything up and, as usual, I have to fix it."

John took a deep breath and leaned forward, his arms coming to rest on the table between them. "What has Norman messed up?"

"Everything," said Mother, shrugging. "As usual. It's almost me who has to fix things. Norman doesn't understand how serious things are. He panics. He becomes emotional. He let his emotions for that girl cloud his judgement. I told him what to do, but he just sat there and cried. He's sensitive. That's why he needs me so much. I have to protect him. Everything I do is for Norman."

"I see. Have you... spoken about this to anyone else? Like Deputy Jeffcoat?"

"Oh no," 'she' assured him smugly. "John, I know better than that."

John breathed a sigh of relief. Because in that moment, he knew he'd have to radically change his strategy if he was to ensure Norman would end up in Pineview instead of an Oregon state prison. There was no more doubt in his mind as to Norman's guilt. He recognized a cold-blooded killer when he saw one and this was blatant. But Norman was also Norma's son, and Dylan's brother, and for their sake, he would fight to ensure the best outcome for Norman.

"How is he? Can I see him?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Norma."

John met Norma and Alex out in the hallway.

"Why not? Is he ok?"

"Norma, I don't know how to say this exactly. He's... He's not himself."

"What does that mean? You don't even know him. How would you know?"

"I mean, literally, he's not himself. I don't want to say anymore right now, right here. Sheriff?" He looked at Alex.

"Yeah?"

"Could we have a word in private?"

"Yeah, we can talk in my office."

Norma looked resentful. "What's going on, John? Why won't you tell me anything?"

"I will, Norma. I promise. I just need to talk to the sheriff about something."

"What can I do for you, John?" Alex questioned as the men entered his office. He closed the door and walked to the chair behind his desk. He liked that John kept calling him Sheriff. It pleased him that his rival recognized his authority.

"Well, it's not what you can do for me. It's what we can both do for Norma. And Dylan, of course."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come on, Sheriff. You recused yourself from the case. I see the way you and Norma act together."

"We're friends. I'm not sure how that's any of your business."

John sighed. His eyes darted around the wall behind Alex. "Everything," he began, choosing his words carefully, "about Norman's domestic situation has to be my business if I'm going to represent him and ensure the best outcome for him. I need to know that his mother's personal connection to the sheriff is not going to compromise his chances."

"Why would it?"

"Come on, sheriff, you know how things work. You might have recused yourself this time, but you've been in charge of cases connected to my client before. The prosecution could easily make a case for your bias casting a wider shadow over the department, where the Bates family are concerned."

"What are you saying, that I need to stay away from Norma?" (No part of Alex intended to take the advice of Norma's ex where his own relationship with her was concerned, but he knew John had a point and it worried Alex to think that his coziness with her could mess things up for her son.)

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying we need to be practical. My firm has already arranged for Dr. Edwards at Pineview to come here, the goal being a strong diagnosis and course of treatment, to bolster our case for Pineview being the best place for Norman."

"That's good. What does that have to do with me and Norma?"

"Everything," John said imploringly. "Norma needs to come up with a lot of money to pay for that place. Now I know it's been forever since I've been privy to the finer points of her finances, but my guess is that she doesn't have anywhere near that kind of cashflow. Dylan's told me a little about this motel she owns. Situated on the old highway into town, nowhere near the newer, more popular bypass off the main highway. Does Norma even have health insurance? Because Pineview won't take Norman without it."

"I don't know," said Alex, shaking his head.

"Well, we need to find out, Alex. Because if it turns out she doesn't, one of us is going to have to step up."

"What do you mean?"

"Alex..." John was looking at him as if he ought to know the answer, and if he didn't know, he must be an idiot. The sudden first-name-basis didn't help to alleviate the insult. "Do you care about Norma?"

"Yes," Alex said, becoming irritated with this guy.

"How much do you care about her, Alex?"

"That's none of your business."

"OK, I'm gonna take that as, 'I care about her a lot, John. Like, I would do anything for her, that's how much I care about her, John.' Am I close?"

Alex was stunned. He couldn't believe the audacity of this guy. He also couldn't believe how transparent he, Alex, apparently was. Was it really so obvious to other people who barely knew him how much he loved Norma?

"Think about it, Alex. You know what you have to do. And if you don't do it, I will. Because I'm not going to let Norma down, ever again."


	23. Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood

Alex watched John take his leather briefcase and fancy suit out of his office. Closing the door, Alex sighed in relief at seeing the back of him, out of his sight. He felt a lot of things at this moment. Anger, bitterness, fear. He was grateful that the bail hearing was happening soon and he wouldn't have to face Norma just yet. He needed to gather his thoughts. He sat at his desk and put his face in his hands. His mind kept flashing back to just the previous night, his first time with Norma. How she told him she loved him too and he took her home and they made love. He took things so slowly so as to memorize every detail, every curve, every mark. The feel of her rubbing her hands on his body, over the scar on his collarbone and through his hair, was enough to make him explode. He shivered the entire time and relished the way she quivered and moaned beneath him. When he secured her legs over his shoulders, he kissed her thighs and noticed the scar on her left thigh. It didn't fully register at the time. He was too engrossed in the mood to want to hear, just then, what was probably a traumatic story. He would not be the trigger of her painful memories. She would open up to him in her own way, on her own time. He knew they had something special. There was no equivalent to the feeling, the pure ecstasy, of being inside her.

How does someone like John Massett come to town and within a few hours of knowing Alex perceive the strength of his passion for Norma? Alex! So fastidious, all the time, to keep his poker face, safely locked up and buried so deep inside him that it would take an archaeological excavation to retrieve them!

What the devil did he mean when he said, if Alex didn't do it, then he, John, would? Do what?

Alex's mind worked quickly through the conversation, replaying John's words in his head. First, it seemed, John was worried about how Alex and Norma's relationship might compromise the trial. Then he seemed to imply that Alex's bias extended to others in the Sheriff's Department. How so? What the hell did he mean by that? Alex couldn't think of anyone who worked under him who had particular fondness for a certain pair of individuals surnamed Bates. Then again, he supposed, John probably meant only that because, he, the sheriff, top dog, was fond of Norma, his deputies might want to help her if only to gain his favor. But that was nonsensical, Alex decided. There was no helping Norma and Norman in this situation. The evidence against Norman was too strong. John was right, Alex knew it. Norman was either going to prison or a psychiatric facility. And if the latter, it was either a county or state-run place or Pineview. Pineview was the only way to help Norman, and therefore Norma, at this point.

John seemed fairly confident of being able to make Pineview happen for Norman. If Alex didn't do what was necessary, then John would. It was obvious, plain as day, that Norma didn't have the level of income to pay the downpayment at Pineview, let alone sustain Norman's treatment indefinitely. Insurance? Yeah, probably not, Alex guessed. John and Alex both had the ability to provide her with insurance. Just marry her. But Alex almost laughed out loud at the idea. He couldn't very well walk up to her and say, "I have insurance, you need insurance, so I thought you could marry me." She would never forgive him! Oh, and he also would be making them potential felons!

But Alex was damned if he was going to let John come to town on a white horse and sweep Norma away from him. That could only happen over Alex's dead body and Alex planned on being alive a long time yet.

The phone on his desk rang. Alex hit the speaker button. "Romero."

"Sheriff, Bob Paris is here to see you."

Alex groaned. Could it get any worse? "Fine. Send him back."

Bob Paris came striding in, grinning ear to ear, looking as if it was Christmas. "Alex, Alex, Alex!"

Alex kept a grim face. "What do you want, Bob?"

Bob chuckled. "Alex, come on! This is exciting, isn't it? A real, honest to goodness homicidal maniac in White Pine Bay?"

"Bob, get out. I don't have time for this."

"You must be so excited," Bob went on as if Alex was encouraging him instead of telling him in looks to fuck off. "I mean, this is gonna be huge. Books are going to be written, maybe even movies made about how Sheriff Alexander Romero was outwitted not once, not twice, but three times by the 18-year-old Norman Bates."

"What are you talking about, Bob?"

"Well, actually..." Bob pretended to be seriously rethinking something. "If you include how Norman found out about the business being run by Keith Summers and Deputy Zack Shelby, that makes four times that the little rascal pulled the wool over your eyes. See, I've been learning an awful lot, Alex. You know, all this designing of the swimming pool and the billboard on the bypass. It's required some research into the Bates property, formerly the Summers property, and I've learned some very interesting things about the previous and current owner. I've learned a lot more about the current owner, thanks to her brother. He's been very talkative."

Alex glared at Bob. "What are you doing, Bob? I told you not to mess with her. I swear to god. I will break you."

"He told me some things about Norman," Bob went on in that breezy way of his, not even noticing Alex's anger.

"What the hell could Caleb know about Norman?" Alex snapped. "He barely knows his sister. Anymore."

"Well... Norman paid him a visit when he was staying at the King's. Acted a little peculiar. Attacked Caleb with a knife." Bob said all of this like he was just talking about the weather, and even though this information was cutting into Alex like a literal knife, he forced his features to remain still. His right eye twitched a little bit, but otherwise his face was immobile. "I don't know," continued Bob, shrugging. "The DA would probably like to know about Norman's history of attacking people with knives, pushing people down stairs, making a late night visit to his teacher's house the night before she is found with her throat slit open."

"Blaire Watson's killer is in prison and Jimmy Brennan's death was an accident," Alex said almost robotically.

"Yeah, I know, Alex," Bob said, pretending to come around. "You're right. And you arrived at the scene just in time to kill Zack Shelby. He was no good, anyway, just like Norma's late husband, what's his name? He died in a mysterious 'accident' rather like Jimmy, didn't he? But of course everything has a plausible explanation. Nothing to worry about. I'm sure Norman Bates is a good boy who wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Bob, stay out of this. You and I have a deal, remember? I don't cross you, you don't cross me. We work together for the best interest of the town."

Bob smiled. "Of course. For the best interest of the town."

Bob finally left Alex alone. Alex sat there for several minutes, letting Bob get under his skin like he always did. He couldn't help it. Much as he hated himself for letting Bob's words and double meanings shake him up, Alex had no power to stop it. He sat there, feeling his stomach bottom out, until Norma came in, sobbing.

"Norma!" He stood up and rushed to her.

"It's Norman! They won't grant bail! The judge won't let him come home!" She sobbed into his neck as he held her.


	24. I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real

The idea of Norman incarcerated for what seemed to be indefinitely, without an end in sight, was too much for Norma. The worst part was not being allowed to see him because he refused to see her. She saw him in the courtroom for the bail hearing, but he refused to look at her. She called to him. He would not so much as turn his head slightly or move a muscle to show he heard her. He greeted Dylan, but that was all. Norman seemed even to enjoy the agony he was causing his mother to feel. Dylan hugged his mother after the hearing (they were standing in front of the courthouse) and apologized for having to leave, but he wanted to be there for Emma on the day of her discharge from the hospital in Portland. That day was today.

"When were you going to tell me?" Norma asked.

"I didn't really want to lay all of that on you when you have to worry about, with Norman..."

"I mean about you and Emma."

Dylan was surprised and kind of smiled uncomfortably. "I guess this is me telling you."

It was hard for Norma to let go of the one son she could still talk to and touch right now, but a part of her, the higher part, thought of Emma and how lovely it was that Emma actually had a future now, even better that that future might involve Dylan... It was a dream come true. Norma had loved the idea of Emma being Norman's girlfriend. She never thought of Dylan and Emma until this moment. The thought pleased her immensely. As much as she wanted Dylan to stay with her now, she felt that Emma needed him too, maybe even more so.

_-Norma, you have to try and disengage a little. All right? You're gonna make yourself crazy._

Norman, in refusing to acknowledge Norma at all, was acting now in much the same rebellious, almost vindictive way he had behaved that day Alex questioned him about Jimmy Brennan's death. When Norman treated her badly, there was in Norma an automatic response to reach out to the nearest warm port for comfort. She was not going to be that mother who said Dylan couldn't have his own life simply because she needed to feel that at least one child still loved her. Disengage, Norma. Let him go be happy with Emma.

And so she ran into the warm embrace that Alex was ever ready to provide.

Weeks went by. Norman being evaluated by two different psychiatrists, the county-employed Dr. Amelia Schuster and the Pineview Institute's Dr. Edwards. Alex being with her was the one thing keeping Norma from going crazy. She distracted herself from her torturous thoughts by cooking ever more elaborate meals. Nothing like her famous turkey pot pie because that reminded her of Norman, it being his favorite of her cooking. No, for Alex, she tried new things, like random twists on classic recipes: meatloaf with chicken, or cauliflower mac & cheese. It kept her busy and it made her happy to still have someone to cook for with both sons out of the house. There was no fun in cooking for oneself alone. That was just depressing.

Alex loved it. He amazed him how much he liked being that guy who relished going "home" and discussing the day with his girlfriend/wife/whatever-she-was over a couple glasses of wine and a delicious home-cooked meal where a microwave was not involved. Where Norma was, that increasingly felt like home. The first few days, he would bring things in and out of the house as he came and went; but then it just made more sense to leave things there, like his toothbrush and shaving kit, and then there was that glorious moment, after dinner, as they got ready for bed, when Norma told him she had emptied a drawer for his exclusive use. _She gave him a drawer_. A key to the house was the next step and that came the day after the drawer because he became irritated after waiting longer than usual for her to open the door for him. The irritation increased upon his discovery of what, rather who, had held her up. John Massett was in her kitchen, briefing her on the progress of Dr. Edwards' assessment of Norman.

"Hi, John."

"Hi, Alex."

"What's going on?" Alex looked uncomfortably between Norma and John.

"Um," Norma seemed nervous.

John didn't want to say, feeling, rightly, that it was Norma's place to decide what to tell her guest. Instead, he stood up and prepared to leave. "So that's it, really, Norma. I'll have my secretary fax over that paperwork. It should be fairly quick and painless."

After he was gone, Norma tried to smile it off. "I'm making a pot roast," she said. She wrapped her arms under his arms and around his back. She kissed him tenderly. Even though he enjoyed it, squeezing her into his embrace and closing his eyes to savor their kiss, he made himself pull back slightly, cup her face in his hands, and force eye contact. He didn't have to ask the question. She fell into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, and gasped. "Dr. Edwards diagnosed Norman. Dissociative identity disorder and schizophrenia."

"Oh Norma," Alex breathed, pressing his lips to her temple. "Baby, I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

Norma pulled back slightly, but keeping them entwined. "John says we have a good case for me being Norman's legal guardian. I have to agree that Norman is insane in order to keep him from prison and get him into Pineview, but, Alex, Norman isn't insane. He's just... He's not insane."

Alex sighed. He chose his words very carefully. "Of course not, he's not insane. He has mental illness that impacts his ability to make a decision for his own best interest. I think John is right. You need to do this. It's the only way to help Norman."

Norma avoided his eyes. She moved past him. His heart broke at how dejected she seemed. He followed her into the hallway and just watched her as she stopped in the doorway to the living room, her back to him. He stayed a good five paces from her, afraid to get too close in case she needed the space.

"Norma?" He finally spoke after feeling nervous about her prolonged silence.

No answer.

He decided quickly and moved toward her. She moved away from him before he could touch her.

"Norma? What's wrong?"

Her shoulders slumped and she let out a sob. She wrapped her arms around her waist.

He walked quickly to her and embraced her from behind, holding her in place even though he could feel her wanting to break free.

"What's wrong, baby? Talk to me."

"I can't do this."

"Do what?"

She slowly turned to face him and gave him a smile. She wiped the wetness on her face. "I'm just really tired. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm gonna go check on the pot roast."

She left him standing there and as he watched her leave the room, he made the decision. He knew what he had to do. He needed to make a trip first. A quick trip to his house to get something, and then he'd come back here and ask her...


	25. Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence. Second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.

_Remember when I first met you, on the porch of the motel, that night?_

How much can change in two years! Alex stared at the velvet box in his hand. He thought back to that rainy night, on patrol with Zack Shelby, how they saw the lights on the porch of the motel and had exchanged looks of surprise.

"Did you know the buyer moved in already?" Alex asked the deputy.

"No," said Zack. "No idea. A woman from Arizona, right?"

"I think so. I'm gonna pull over. I need to pee."

"Nice wheels," Zack said, nodding to the 1970s Mercedes that was parked near the office of the motel. "Arizona plates."

Alex flicked on his flashlight as he stepped from his SUV and walked toward the car. It was raining pretty hard now, the rain soaking the rolls of carpet sticking out of the open trunk. Alex turned off the flashlight and went to see if the owner might be in the office. There were lamps and mattresses lining the porch, furniture having been pulled out of the rooms, possibly so the Mercedes driver could pull up the carpet? Why? The scene gave Alex the creeps, but it was no new sensation for him when being on the Summers property. The old Queen Anne house and "Seafairer" motel (Keith and his non-existent spelling ability) always gave Alex the creeps. As a kid who sometimes played with Keith and his sister, Maggie, in the woods, he never exactly relished visiting their house. He never even really liked the family who lived there. Keith was a bully Alex barely tolerated whenever he couldn't find anyone else to go bike riding with. Alex felt sorry for Maggie, but never relished her company; she wasn't exactly brimming over with joy.

Two years after that rainy night, the first time he met Norma and Norman Bates, Alex cringed at the thought that he had once even tolerated Keith Summers. His stomach turned as he remembered the details of that night. Norma with her injured hand, cutting up and hauling carpet. She came walking out of room 5 and Alex saw through her charm offensive right away. He wanted to believe her, but there was no way she had only "nicked" her hand with a box cutter, any more than she was overhauling all that carpet at two in the morning simply to "redecorate." He wanted to grab her and shake her and make her tell him the truth.

_You have a son?_

A little kid, surely. But why was her little boy awake at that time and helping her remove carpeting?

Seventeen years old? Jesus. She didn't look a day over thirty and yet she had a seventeen-year-old son.

Norma and Norman. Unusual. That was one way to put it.

_Boys take their father's names all the time._

Alex remembered how she had barely been able to look at him. She mostly spoke to Zack. There was no penetration from Zack's eyes. Zack didn't see through her the way Alex did. Zack just saw a pretty woman, no doubt undressing her with his eyes and conniving in his head the ways to seduce her. Norma knew how to deal with a Zack Shelby. Just smile and be cute and flirt back. Norma learned too quickly that those old tricks failed miserably with Alex. Jokes about how "nothing bored my late husband more" than interior decoration.

"Oh you're a widow?" Zack asked, falling hook line and sinker, or at least pretending to fall for it.

Two-years-later Alex thought with pride and some self-congratulation over how far Norma had come. He couldn't help giving himself credit for how much more honest she was now. The truth is all he ever wanted from her. He could accept anything, but not the hiding, not the lies.

He knew she was afraid of how she would be able to pay for Norman's care at Pineview. She couldn't admit it to him now, but she would. He returned to her house and knocked on the door. She came to the door and smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I really do need a key, Norma," he said, grinning, hoping to cheer her up with this lighthearted comment.

"I know," she said, moving so he could follow her inside, which he did. "I'll get a copy made tomorrow. You're here just in time. Dinner's ready."

They ate in silence, casting each other furtive looks.

"I'll open the wine," she said, standing up and taking their plates from the table.

"No, I'll do it."

"OK." She untied her apron and sat back down at the table while he fetched the glasses.

They resumed the furtive glances and shy smiles while he poured the wine.

He was still wearing his leather jacket over his uniform. It was a drafty old house, but more to the point, he needed to keep the ring close, and it was presently in the breast pocket of his jacket.

"I think we should have a toast," he said, stopping her with his words from taking her first sip of wine.

"Oh? What for?" She asked sadly. She didn't think the news that came that day about Norman was exactly toast worthy.

Alex shrugged and tried to play off his nervousness with a grin. "I mean, it is good news about the diagnosis. It's good to know what we're dealing with."

"We?"

"Yeah, Norma. We."

She swallowed. "I don't see how it's good news."

"Well, it is, because Dr. Edwards knows how to help Norman."

Norma took a sip of wine, even though they hand't 'toasted' yet. She was too nervous to wait.

She watched Alex stand up and then get down on one knee.

"What are you doing?" She laughed but it was a scared laugh. She was scared to even think what this could mean.

"It's been two years, Norma. Two years ago, I met you. I was miserable and I didn't even know it, or I wouldn't admit it. I'd go home to a bottle of whiskey every night and I thought that was going to be my life forever. When I met you, I wanted you to open up to me completely, right away, tell me everything, and yet I never opened up to anyone. What was it you said to me? 'You don't have to be so stoic all the time.'"

"It kept you alive," she said, giggling.

"Alive but not happy. I never knew what happiness could look like until I met you."

"Alex..."

"Norma, let me finish. I need you to know how much you mean to me."

A massive grin overtook her face. "Awe! I love you too, Alex."

"Yes, Norma, I love you. I always will. But I need you to know that I've loved you from that first night. The night we met."

Her eyes got big when he pulled out the little ring box. Her heart skipped a beat, but soon resumed, beating very fast. "Alex..."

"I'm here, Norma, and I'm not going anywhere." He opened the box and showed her the sparkling diamond. "Norma Louise, will you marry me?"


	26. I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part of the first part of what will be a two-part series. The next part will be titled NAMASTE NORMERO. The outcome for Alex and Norma is shaping up to be more harmonious than tragic, though we're wading through lots of tragedy to get there. Lots of smut. I'll do my best not to let you down. As fanfic writers go, I'm in the minor leagues, but I play with a full and true heart.

"Alex!" Norma breathed. Her chair screeched as she backed away from the table and stood up. "What are you doing?"

He stood up and closed the ring box, feeling wounded where it hurts the most... in the heart. He couldn't speak.

"Marry me? You want to marry me?"

"Yeah, Norma, I do."

"But..." She struggled to think of one of the many reasons why it was a crazy idea.

"Norma, listen." He stepped toward her and she wanted to back away, but she couldn't move. He ghosted his hands over her upper arms and she felt herself wanting to melt into his touch. "We're not getting any younger. We love each other. We need each other. You know it. I know you're going through a lot right now, but I think that's all the more reason to let me in, completely."

"But, Alex..." Norma looked at him helplessly. "You don't understand. This would be my third marriage. I'm never gonna be good at it."

He grinned a little wickedly. "Third time's a charm?"

She laughed in spite of herself, but quickly tried to recant it. "Alex, let's be serious."

Now Alex couldn't help becoming a little angry. "Goddammit, Norma, I am serious. You think I'd go back to my house, get my mother's ring, and come back here and ask you to marry me if I wasn't serious?"

She stared him. "Your mother's..."

"Yeah, Norma, my mother's ring."

"Why are you doing this? Right now?"

His face fell but only because he knew he'd have to tell her the absolute truth. He would never do anything less with her. What made his face fall was the feeling that, as always with Norma, he had to pick his words carefully. She would hear anything he said through the filter of her own fears, self-doubt, and, above all, her maternal insecurities.

"Because right now, in order to help Norman, you need insurance." He stepped even closer to her, slowly, and in response to her eyes widening, he gently folded his hands around her upper arms. "I have insurance."

"Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"You want to marry me to give me insurance?"

"No," he said, almost laughing. "I want to marry you because I love you. But the question was, why am I doing this right now." When she didn't speak, but only stared at him with tears in her eyes, he continued: "I know it's not the most romantic proposal. I'm not the most romantic guy. I never have been. There's a reason women don't exactly fall at my feet. They generally recoil when I look at them."

Norma smirked, looking down at the floor.

"What?" He pressed her to explain that smirk.

She moved her head from one side to the other, still unable to sustain eye contact with him. "I was just thinking how I used to recoil when you'd look at me."

His grin spread to his whole face and eyes. "Yeah, you did."

"Sheriff Bulldog," she said happily, finally looking at him.

"Pain in the ass," he shot back.

"Big daddy of White Pine Bay."

He looked away from her, cringing inside, but still smiling. "I hate that nickname."

"It is a stupid name," she agreed.

His eyes shot back up to meet hers. "Well, you made it up."

"Yeah, I did. I made up 'Sheriff Bulldog' too. You reminded me of that bulldog that tried to bite off my leg when I was a kid."

"A bulldog tried to bite off your leg?"

"Yeah. It chased me up a tree."

"What happened?"

"My father shot it."

Alex was taken aback. "Really?"

She wasn't laughing anymore. "Yeah. My father was a dick."

Alex couldn't help finding this funny. "Yeah, my father's a dick too. But in fairness, if I had a daughter and some dog was scaring the shit out of her, I'd probably do the same thing."

"Well, my father didn't do it out of love. He just enjoyed being a dick."

"So, Norma?"

"Alex?"

"Are you gonna marry me or what?"

She looked at him coyly. She put her hands on his face and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "Well... I'm not doing anything else."

Their grins were directly proportional to each other. He grinned, she grinned. His grin spread wider, so did hers. They just stared at each other, grinning ear to ear.

"I know you're attracted to me," he said. "I'll sleep with you."

She gave him a look that said, 'well, in that case.'

"All right, Sheriff," she said. "I'll marry you, but-"

"But what?"

"I'm keeping my name."

THE END... OF PART ONE. PART TWO, NAMASTE NORMERO, WILL BE COMING SOON, AS A NEW STORY, picking up sequentially from this one.


End file.
